Strange Meetings
by Rebell
Summary: Meeting your soontobe best friends can be fun. But when you're in Mirkwood, orcs are out, and your names are Legolas, Elrohir, and Elladan, it can be downright dangerous.
1. Meetings and honey

**Disclaimer: **Mine, my own… my _precious… _No, not really, no… sighs They're Tolkien's… For now laughs evilly

**AN: **Yes I know, why aren't I working on _Mists of Memory, _but my muse bit me and swore I wouldn't get a wink of sleep until I did her bidding… I'm not sure how long this will be, any suggestions will highly appreciated.

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"So, you _do _realize in order to be good guests, it means _no practical jokes?" _Elrond glared at his sons, who looked innocently back at him.

The elf lord glanced suspiciously into the forests of Mirkwood, which had grown disturbingly quiet. They were quite close to the palace, yet no one was around. He shook off the uneasy feeling and turned his attention back to the twins.

"I mean it. I will not have you dishonor Rivendell with your… unruliness. No. Pranks." Elrond felt a slight tug around his ankle, and the next instant, he was blinking against a stream of honey. He turned his mystified gaze onto Elladan and Elrohir, who were in a similar predicament.

Several seconds passed, father and sons staring in confusion. A branch above them trembled, and an elfling dropped from a tree, landing nimbly.

"Ha! I told you! See Glorfindel, I told you I'd get you—" The elfling trailed off, staring hard at Elrond. "Back?" he finished weakly. He quickly adopted a formal pose, although he was obviously uncomfortable.

"L-lord Elrond!" The youngster began, shifting from foot to foot, a blush creeping up his neck. "A-and company! You--you're early! My-my apologies of course. Um, I—you can bring your, uh horses up to the gate." The elfling was quickly losing any dignity he had mustered. "The gate is—uh, over that way, my—the king… well, he's there right now if you hurry you can catch him."

An awkward silence followed, the Imladris elves still totally dumbstruck. The elfling scratched the back of his leg with a foot, coughed slightly and blurted out, "Well—uh—busy—late—Ada will—_bye." _He turned and fled.

Elladan watched the mysterious elfling disappear into the forest, his green tunic melting into the trees. Half of him was mildly annoyed, but the other half was hoping to meet the young one again.

Slowly, the family moved forward, the end of their journey in sight. They broke through the trees and the twins gasped in surprise. It was their first visit to Mirkwood, and the palace took then by surprise.

The structure was beautiful, carved into the mountain itself. Many of the rooms were actually underground, yet even the Wood Elves did not have it in them to dwell wholly underground, there were also many open rooms under the sky. Trees grew in courtyards and spilled along the foothills. A long stone fence encircled the whole complex, and the travelers made for the open gate.

Elladan shared an amazed glance with Elrohir as they neared the gates. Both of them knew that their father would have been giving them one last lecture, but seeing as some other mischievous elf had just dumped a barrel of honey over them, well, it just would be right.

As the ground leveled upward, elves began to appear. Curious stares and muffled snickers followed them up to the gates, and soon a crowd had gathered. Elladan felt his face grow hot under all the honey. He was used to being laughed at at home, but these elves were strangers.

Upon the gate, a tall figure waited. "That's Thranduil." Elrond said in a low voice. "Remember what I told you about him, he's stern but enjoys a laugh. He's fair in his decisions, warm hearted, and likes some level of respect. And a lovely hot temper. He has one son about your age, and he adores the child, who reminds him of his wife."

The twins straightened and winced; the honey had begun to dry and crack uncomfortably. "I'm going to hunt that elfling down, stick him in a vat of dye and parade him through the palace." Elrohir swore. "We'll see how he looks in a nice purple."

Thranduil came forward a step, and surveyed his visitors with a raised eye. "Elrond! Wonderful to see you again, twenty five years really is too long!"

Elrond nodded in return. "_Mae govannen. _These are my sons, Elladan and Elrohir." The twins bowed in turn, uncomfortably aware of their sweet coat cracking.

The Mirkwood king shook their hands warmly. "_Mae govannen _as well! Now, what happened to you? Or is it a new Imladris custom to coat yourselves with honey?"

They were saved from admitting they had walked directly into a trap by a young elf skidding (literally) onto the scene. "I'm sorry! Late!"

Thranduil laughed. "As usual. Elrond, Elladan, Elrohir, this is my son, Legolas Greenleaf." The prince bowed and looked directly at the visitors for the first time. His fair face paled slightly.

The travelers stared right back. For this was the elfling who, not more than 15 minutes ago, had met them in the forest!

"Well—met." Elrond managed.

Legolas turned to his father and said quickly, "Oh! Ada, I almost—uh, forgot! I must go to the stables! Have to feed Mordax!"

"Ah, yes." Thranduil mused. "That _yrch-_born demon of yours. Very well. I wouldn't want one of the elves in the stable to get their heads kicked in."

Legolas gave his father a half reproachful, half relieved glance, bowed once more, and raced off. Seconds later, a loud _thud _sounded. The prince's voice floated up, "It's a little bit slippery down here."

The king rolled his eyes heavenward. "Valar help me. Clumsy in everything except fighting and rides a stallion that won't let a soul near it, save for him. We'll need your healings skills before you leave. Now, I assume you'd like to change, and then maybe you two would like to go exploring?"

The king caught Elrond's apprehensive expression. "It's all right. The spiders do not come so close, and the patrols have not sensed orcs for weeks."

Elrohir nodded eagerly. Elladan followed his brother's example, knowing that exploring would have to wait. Revenge comes first.

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Legolas darted into the stables, turned a sharp right and vaulted into a stall. The stallion inside reared in surprise, then bent it's great head and nuzzled the elfling.

"Mordax, I just did something extremely stupid." Legolas reached for a comb and ran it gently through the horse's black mane. "And Ada is saying you 're a demon horse again. What have you done _now?" _

Mordax reared slightly and gave off a very clear sense of satisfaction.

"Not again!" Legolas groaned. "Poor Nethidal. You've thrown him off what, 18 times now?" Mordax whickered. "Oh. Nineteen. You're not supposed to be proud about it you know." Mordax simply stamped the ground, not looking sorry at all. "All right, all right. We'll go for a run to the archery fields. But behave!"

An elf poked his head over the stall door. "Hey—" Mordax snorted in rage and rushed at the intruder, teeth snapping, hooves nearly trampling the prince as he rushed to get out of the way. The elf yelled and pulled back, narrowly avoiding losing an ear. One of the flying hooves clipped the prince on the shoulder, sending him back into a wall.

"Son of an orc!" he roared, climbing to his feet. Sending a prayer to the Valar, he vaulted onto the horse's broad back. He dug in his heels and entwined his slim fingers into the mane.

Mordax leaped—directly over the stall door. He thundered down the stables, snapping left and right. Elves and horses alike scrambled to get out of his way. Satisfied that no one would get hurt, (this time) Legolas let out a wild war cry.

They burst out of the stables at a dead run. Legolas relaxed and let the stallion have a free reign. "That wasn't exactly behaving." He said, trying to sound like his father when he was angry (and failing miserably). "You nearly took my head off!" Mordax snorted and slowed down to a saucy canter.

The prince sighed and asked, "Why are you so difficult?" he may as well have asked a tree and gotten better results. He _had _asked a tree and gotten better results.

Before long, a small but wide field opened up before them. Legolas slid off Mordax and reached for his bow. The stallion shied nervously and Legolas scowled at him. "Hey what are you worried about? I _missed, _didn't I?" The young elf slipped a soft rope around the horse's neck and tied the other end to a tree.

Turning he drew an arrow, wincing at the pain it caused in his left shoulder. _Dratted horse. _A target at the far edge of the field caught his eye, and he turned slowly, aiming directly at the center.

A far off cry sounded just as he let go of the arrow, causing him to jerk upward. "_Legolas!"_ He watched in dismay as the shaft disappeared into the forest.

"Hmmm. Maybe I should have taken down the ice water over Ada's door."

Undaunted, he continued to empty his quiver, ignoring the steadily growing pain in his shoulder. Fifteen minutes later, targets all over the field boasted arrows, always somewhere within the bull's-eye. Starting forward, Legolas began to retrieve his arrows for another go.

Pausing when he got to the first target he aimed at, the prince glanced back around the field. Mordax was calmly nibbling on some clover, and the sun was till high in the sky. He sighed and started into the wood. The more arrows he had, the longer he could stay out. And away from his wrathful father.

Trees closed over his head, and Legolas sighed. Finding the arrow, with its green and silver quarrels (**AN: did I get that right?**) would be next to impossible. And something, he wasn't quite sure what, was out there, flitting through the trees.

Spinning suddenly, trying to catch the shadow at the edge of his eye, he spotted his arrow, embedded firmly in a tree trunk. Grabbing the end and pulling had absolutely no results. He pulled again, harder. The arrow remained stubbornly burrowed into the trunk.

The tree rustled uncomfortably, he was hurting it. "Sorry _mellon nin._" Wrapping both hands around the shaft, Legolas pulled with all his strength. He stifled a yelp as the arrow abruptly came free, jerking his shoulder back roughly. The tree's branches rubbed together, creating a low moaning sound.

The prince froze. The tree was warning him. There was danger, to the west, and more importantly, right behind him. He stayed completely still, waiting for a tell-tale sound… _there! _

With a smooth, cat-like movement, the bow was off his shoulder an arrow fitted to the string, and he spun. The tip of the arrow came to rest against the throat of an elf.

_An elf? _Legolas looked again. It was hard to recognize him with out all the honey, but this was one of Elrond's sons, El-something-or-other. He lowered the arrow to the ground and slowly released his grip. His shoulder throbbed steadily, but he gave no sign of pain.

"Don't _do _that!" He snapped, sounding more petulant than angry.

A voice from behind sounded, and the other twin raced into view. "Wow! You sure can move fast!" Legolas blew out his breath and dropped his bow altogether.

"_Not _funny! I almost shot you! What would I have told Elrond? 'Oh oops, clumsy me, I shot—uh… which one are you?"

"Elrohir."

"Ah." Legolas looked them up and down, desperately searching for some sort of difference before they—moved. Drats. He continued, ignoring the unsettling way they copied each other. "You are so lucky you weren't up against a higher warrior."

The twins shared a confused look, and one of them asked, "_You're _a warrior?" Legolas leaned against the tree and sighed. The tree whispered in his mind and he smiled.

"Yes Elladan, don't act so surprised." The young prince opened his eyes and laughed at the dark haired elfling, whose mouth dropped open in shock.

"But you're so young! And your father lets you? What about—"

Legolas raised his hands in self defense, and hid a wince of pain. Noting the sharp eyes that watched him suspiciously, he hurried to his explanation. "Well, for one thing, I'm not as young as I look. I'm five hundred and two. I know I don't look it, but _don't _rub it in." He narrowed his eyes, but they twinkled, giving him away.

"Also, no, Ada isn't happy about it, but there's not really anything he can do about it is there?"

Elrohir smiled and nodded approvingly. "So we're four hundred and forty nine, but we turn 450 this June. That's when we begin our weapon training. Which are your preferred weapons?"

Legolas hefted his bow in his right hand. "I love my bow, but I'm not bad at blades either."

The twins continued to ask questions, and Legolas answered patiently, asked some of his own, and in the course of several hours, the three had become good friends.

Elrohir and Elladan were laughing, and Legolas was animatedly explaining the details of a wonderful food fight he had instigated on his last begetting day. "And then Ada walks in, and I'm covered in mashed potatoes and dumping sauce all over Herild, and _he's _throwing peas in my face. I can't see anything, so I throw a glob of frosting in his general direction, he ducks—and my Ada gets it full in the face!"

Legolas shifted uncomfortably, he had been vividly illustrating the events with his arms and jostled his shoulder the wrong way.

Elrohir spoke first, after he managed to stop laughing at the thought of frosting covered Thranduil. "You've been hiding something, so you might as well show us. Or we could do it forcibly."

The elf groaned and pulled the shoulder of his tunic down; there was no way he could hide it anymore, and it was really starting to bug him. Elrohir gasped and reached out, gently prodding the swollen, bruised joint.

The whole shoulder was a mass of purple-blue bruises, and was an angry red wherever normal skin color showed through. "What happened?"

Legolas sighed. "Mordax." Seeing the twins amazed and suspicious glances, he quickly added, "But it's not that bad. He didn't mean it. Quesya was dumb enough to intrude on his territory. He was just defending it."

"Like you are him?" Elrohir asked wryly, still feeling the joint to see if any real damage had been done. "In the twenty minutes we were in the palace, I heard enough stories about that horse… If half of them are true, he's trouble."

Legolas stood, out of reach. "It's all right. It's not too bad. Mordax is just fine, if you want I'll show him to you. He wouldn't hurt you if I'm right there." _I hope. _Truth be told, Mordax was dangerously close to being either set free far, far to the north. Or, if he came close to killing another elf again, killed himself. Legolas would _not _let that happen.

Maybe if he could convince the stallion that the twins were friends, his Ada would reconsider. He stuck out a hand and leaned on a tree, contemplating the difficult task ahead of him.

An electric kind of tingle spread through him, the tree crying out in desperation for someone to hear. Legolas froze, eyes staring into the forest, then ever so slowly, toward the west.

"What is it?" Elladan asked worriedly. The sudden change in his new friend startled him.

"Orcs move in the west. They are but a mile away, and moving fast." Legolas swung his bow onto his shoulders, and spoke quickly, knowing that there was no time to waste. Pointing in a vague direction, he ordered, "Go back to the palace and warn my father. This is but a scout party, only ten or so, but I fear there may be more." He turned and raced back towards the archery field; heading directly west.

The field came into view abruptly, the trees simply stopping as if poison festered in the soil. Mordax snorted and reared wildly, sensing the rank odor of the foul creatures. Legolas ran, nearly tripping over himself in his haste. Cursing his clumsiness, he fumbled with the knot in the rope, frantically yanking at his own deft knots.

Finally, in sheer frustration, he unsheathed one of his knives and cut the rope. The stallion reared, dragging the stubborn elf around face to face with frightened twin faces. "What are you doing here?"

"We don't know our way around here! There was no path…"

Legolas paused for a second, wondering if the Valar actually ever listened to his prayers. Reaching a quick decision, he wrapped his hands in the rope and firmly planted his feet. "Get on him."

Elladan's face transformed from fright to disbelief. "Are you crazy?"

"Look, which is better, an orcan blade or _maybe _falling off a horse? Get on, he won't buck. NOW!" He roared as Elladan hesitated.

The elfling gingerly laid a hand on the stallion's heaving flank and scrambled up. Mordax reared again, forcing the elder twin to entwine his fingers into the mane of the creature, much like the prince had hours earlier.

Legolas pulled down with all his strength, biting back a cry of pain as his shoulder was nearly ripped from its socket. "_Stop it! You will not harm them! They are friends!" _The stallion reared again, though more hesitantly this time. The urgency and commanding tone of his master's voice penetrated the skull of the beast, and he whickered uncertainly. But he did not buck again.

"That's it, my _dold bennas. _Now you."

Elrohir took his brother's hand and leaped up behind him. Mordax shifted nervously, not really comfortable with two strange elves upon him, but his master's firm hold stayed him.

Legolas rubbed the great beast's neck and peered around him. Orcs gathered in the darkness just beyond his sight, but he could hear their thumping feet. Quickly, he handed the rope to Elladan and slung his bow from his shoulder.

"Go. Mordax knows the way. It takes me only 5 minutes on foot, he should have no problem."

"But what about you? You cannot fight with your shoulder—"

The elven prince fitted an arrow to the string, pulled back and let fly. The scream of an orc rang out, along with cries of rage from it's fellows. "Like hell I can't. Go!" He slapped Mordax on the flank, and the stallion took off like a shot.

Legolas turned his attention to the pressing matter of the orcs. He loosed arrow after arrow, and as the creatures pressed forward, saw that the tree who had informed him of the danger was quite right. There were only 13 of the creatures, and his arrows had taken three more down.

But his aim was severely off, and he managed to kill only one more before he had to whip out his knives. He met the force with unmistakable fury, blades whirling in a dance that promised death.

The orcs surrounded him, even as three more of their number dropped to the ground, black blood staining the grass. Legolas found himself hard-pressed to keep his parries and thrusts under control.

A sword flashed in, nicking the elf's arm with its rough blade. Legolas' attention never wavered, solely focusing on the orc on his left. His arm worked in a blur, frantically parrying the large creature's swings and thrusts. Occasionally, he swung in his right arm to help deflect a particularly hard stroke, and eventually, this became his undoing.

An orc brought in his blade while the prince's right hand was on the left, scoring a long cut along the elf's side. As Legolas gasped and bent to the right, a club smashed into his left shoulder, dislocating the already weakened joint and sending the elf careening to the ground, knives flying from his grasp.

Legolas watched as his knives skittered away, knowing there was no way he could get back to his feet and to them in time. He twisted desperately to the side, in one last final attempt to escape the axe heading for his neck.

**AN: **yea! You wouldn't believe how long I had this floating around before I typed it up. As I said before, I'm still not sure whether or not to turn this into a long fic with a really involved plot, or keep it short. Let me know, please!

Oh, btw, if anyone's read _Arguments and Attack of the Squirrels _(shameless plug) I'm seriously thinking of writing a sequel. Should I?


	2. Dumb orcs and painful shoulders ow

**Disclaimer: **Ah! winces don't make us! Please, don't make us! It hurts, it hurts us! We is not amused, precious. My muse and I don't like itsssss. No, no! Not the rights! Not the rights! It is hurting us! hisses horribly Fine! We doesn't own it, precious, we doesn't own the elves, or Mirkwood, or nasty _lembas _bread! Now take the rights away! Please…

**AN: **Ahem, sorry about that. I'm better now… especially with the reviews I got! Yea!

pauses and glances around at the angry readers Everybody, I'm so sorry I haven't updated, but my mother has locked me off the computer, and I have to snatch bits of time…

Now, here's the thing… I would like to make this a longer fic, but I'm not sure if my muse has any ideas for a better plot… oh wait! She just bit me… Oh! And I have to stop doing the Elven translations in the second chapters… _dold bennas, _or what Legolas affectionately calls Mordax, is Sindarin for dark angel… Thanks are at the bottom! And special thanx go to **Deana** for pointing out that the feathers are not quarrels, they're fletchings. My bad…

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The elf shuddered as the orcan blade dug into the ground where his heart had been just an instant before. _Oh no…_ Clutching his shoulder, he rolled, less than gracefully to the side, then fell back as a nasty orc foot appeared. Trying not to breathe, (it would be fatal) he came face to face with a scimitar arcing down toward his head.

Time slowed down to a crawl as he let go of his shoulder and threw up his right arm in a feeble attempt to deflect the blade.

A vicious clang rang through the small clearing. A dagger parried the sword away, a hairs-breadth from Legolas' arm. "Don't kill him! 'E may be.. 'elpful."

"Over my dead body!" Legolas spat.

The dagger dropped, coming to rest against his throat. "I can arrange that. But I want answers first. Name."

The prince twisted to look at this new foe. Similar to all it's kind, it was a squat, bow-legged creature. It wore rough fabric twisted into a ratty tunic, and strange leather sandals. The leather was unlike any he had ever seen…

The orc noticed this and pivoted gracefully. "Like 'em? Made of elf-skin, they are." Legolas' eyes widened in horror and disgust, and he moved as far away as he dared. The orc bent down, its dagger moving across the elf's chest. "Name?"

Legolas stared at the creature silently, letting the contempt and defiance on his face answer.

The orc hissed in annoyance. The dagger cut through Legolas' thin tunic and sliced into his skin. He stubbornly remained silent. The longer he did, the deeper and longer the cut became.

Almost unconsciously, he edged away. The orcs, it was obvious the he was attempting to escape from the pain. However, Legolas was highly aware that one of his knives was only a few inches away. Counting on the orcs stupidity, he watched his tormentor through slitted eyes.

"All right! I'll tell you! Just... stop, please!" The orc lessened the pressure and considered him.

"Yes?"

"I lied." Legolas reached out, felt the hilt of the knife slide comfortably into his grip. Cries of surprise echoed through the forest, and several of the orcs leaped for the blade. Legolas brought it up in a desperate arc, and the silver blade quickly became dark with orc blood.

A sword slapped in rapid succession, the blade out of his hand, his shoulder, and finally his temple. Blackness ate at the corners of his vision, even as he cried out in pain and reached for his shoulder.

But unconsciousness was not complete, voices filtered through the haze, harsh grating voices that did nothing for the prince's nasty headache. "Not very smart, little one. Brave but foolish. 'Orrible combination."

Legolas struggled to open his eyes, knowing full well that if he showed too much weakness, they would certainly--

"Aw, come on, Gulk! 'E's just lyin' there! Can't we eat 'im?"

"No! You idiots! He may be an elf, but elves do talk if... pressured. We wait, see, 'e's waking up now."

As the prince's eyes flickered open, he found his vision had been blurred. He could still see forms, but they flickered around the edges.

"We'll try something else. Elrond of Rivendell was due here sometime this week. 'is sons are with 'im. where are they?"

Legolas didn't respond right away. How did these creatures learn of the twins? And Elrond as well? He himself hadn't known of their visit until his little 'welcoming' gift went awry.

A hand descended and came to rest upon his left shoulder. "_Tell me!."_ Legolas stayed quiet. "So, _this _is how you want it!" Gulk sounded almost gleeful as he wrenched the elf's shoulder back.

Legolas cried out in pain as bone grated against bone. Black spots appeared before his eyes, and he struggled weakly to move away. Gulk sneered and easily halted him.

For an instant, everything was black, then sight returned in a rush. Legolas blinked rapidly, trying to understand what had happened, then smiled in comprehension as a horse's enraged whinnies reached his ears. Mordax was back.

"Kill it you idiots!" Gulk yelled in the general confusion. The smile disappeared from Legolas' face faster than a hobbit could down a mushroom. Ors were good at killing, and, more often than not, ate their victims.

He struggled harder, biting clean through his lower lip as he was brutally slammed back against the ground. Gulk's foot pressed against his chest, heedless of the pain it was causing by grinding dirt into the dagger cut.

Legolas heard his stallion scream, and the triumphant cry in the Black Tongue. Gulk leaned in close and whispered menacingly, "Me, I wouldn't mind giving you the same fate as your 'orse. I'd get a new pair of sandals. But my master wants information, and _you're _going to give it to us."

"Master?" Legolas gasped. The combination of pressure, orc breath, and orc foot was rendering him hard pressed to breathe. "A wizened old coward who scraped you off the bottom of his foot?"

Gulk smacked him across the face. A gash appeared where one of the orc's hardened yellow fingernails scratched. "Quiet! Where are Elronds sons? And the young prince? They passed by not long ago, where are they?"

Legolas closed his mouth and shut his eyes. If the orc wanted quiet, he'd get quiet. But inside, his mind was whirling. What did the orcs want with them? Why, even though they knew so much, did they not recognize him? Another voice, one that often got him into trouble asked, _have these guys ever heard of soap? _

Another _smack _brought him back from wonderland. _"Answer me!" _The prince's cool blue eyes stared defiantly back. In a swift, but jerky movement, the orc's foot was removed from his chest and slammed into his shoulder.

Too pained even to cry out, he watched through a growing haze of darkness as Gulk drew his dagger and raised it above his head. Suddenly, an arrow embedded itself between it's eyes. The orc fell to the ground, sword clattering beside him.

"Impatient, yet incredibly stupid." Legolas remarked, even though the orc could no longer hear him. "Horrible combination." Then, with the noise of battle around him, he gave into the deep black.

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Nothing could describe the sheer terror Thranduil felt at seeing his only child at the mercy of an orc. Or the rage that was quick to follow. Drawing his bow, he sent an arrow flying.

Before it even reached it's mark, he ordered his elves forward. They surged ahead, a sturdy, deadly force of nine, all that could be found immediately. The battle did not last long.

Thranduil raced over to his son, dropping to his knees. His stomach twisted. The prince was covered in blood, both black and crimson. A cut upon his left cheek, and blood trickling out of his mouth was the only thing that marred his fair face. His shoulder spread at an alarming angle, and Thranduil knew it was dislocated.

"Water." The king called softly, yet commanding. On of the remaining elves handed him a small canteen. Five had gone to scout the area, making sure that no more orcs lurked in the shadows. Two had briefly examined the dead orc bodies before cautiously approaching Mordax, who was struggling weakly to rise.

Moving quickly, Thranduil rinsed away some blood and gently brought Legolas' arm down to his waist. Ripping a strip of cloth from his tunic, the king bound his son's arm firmly in position. He did not know how to relocate joints, but he had enough experience to know it had to be isolated.

Legolas shied away as the last knot was tied. His right hand slowly made it's way across his chest to gently grasp his left shoulder. He mumbled something impossible to make out, even with elven ears. Suddenly his eyes flew open, piercing blue eyes penetrating into Thranduil's own.

"Ada! What are you—the orcs—twins—Mordax…" He trailed off and rolled his eyes heavenwards. "Don't ever let me do that again."

"The twins tell me that _no _one had a say in this."

Legolas offered an abashed smile. "Well, there wasn't any time—wait, the twins are all right?"

Thranduil began to scoop his son up and told him, "Yes, they are back at the palace. They had to be forcibly restrained from coming back with us."

"Hey, put me down! I'm not an invalid!"

Legolas smiled triumphantly as he felt his feet come in contact with the ground. He did have his pride, which he guarded fiercely, having lost it too much in his short life. The cuts on his chest burned fiercely, but bled less. As for his shoulder, it was beginning to go numb. "Wait! Mordax!"

Thranduil firmly pulled him in the general direction of the palace. "I believe he will be all right. Now, come!"

The two elves that were tending the stallion smiled and nodded reassuringly, and only then did Legolas allow himself to be led away.

Father and son made their way back to the south, flanked by the final two elves acting as scouts. Legolas unconsciously held his breath as he felt Thranduil's grip tighten. _Here it comes…_

"What were you _thinking? _You have a wish for death maybe?"

"Oh, Ada, don't start. I have this talk memorized. I'll explain later." As they continued, Legolas had to fight back a wide smile. Thranduil was clearly audible as he grumbled in a very un-kingly fashion.

"If you've heard it so much, why don't you _listen_?"

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The attempt to get in quietly through the gates and into the palace failed miserably. The entire realm was on high alert, and many elves clustered around the gates waiting for the return of the king, guards, and prince.

A great cheer went up as the gates opened to admit them. Legolas laughed and traded comments with several of his friends. Thranduil herded him along, anxious to have the shoulder checked and the cuts looked at.

Any other time, Legolas would have protested, said it was fine. But his chest was beginning to bleed again, and it would be dangerous to go much longer without setting his shoulder. So he allowed himself to be taken to the Healing Rooms. Or, as an inside joke about the palace, his secondary living quarters.

Elrond was there, along with the twins who leaped up simultaneously in dismay. Legolas groaned inwardly, there were no trees here to help him identify which was which.

"You're alive!"

"Are you absolutely out of your tree? Why didn't you come with us?"

"Enough you two." Elrond cut in firmly. "We all want to hear your motives and what happened, but right now, lay down and let me see."

Legolas obediently lowered himself down and waited for the inevitable. As he glanced all about the room to see if anything had changed since the last time he had been there, (actually only a week) he spotted a bruise on one twin's cheek, and a swollen lip on the other.

"What happened to you?"

The one with the bruised cheek smiled ruefully. "We took an unexpected flight. 'Ro's lip met with the ground, and my cheek was introduced to my knee."

Legolas smiled slightly. "Well, at least I can tell you two apart now."

Elrond took hold of the prince's left arm and positioned himself on the bed. "This is going to hurt." He warned.

Legolas turned and focused on the opposite wall, not wanting to see the setting. He held his breath and let it out sharply as feeling flooded back in a rush. The pins and needles he had felt as it numbed was nothing. Now it felt as if several dwarves had hacked at him with their axes.

He began to bite down on his lip, but realized at the last second that two holes would do nothing except to draw more discomfort.

Thranduil's heart squeezed as he saw the pained grimace on his son's face. Taking Legolas' right hand, he stroked it gently, offering a form of comfort.

"How did you get there so fast, Ada?" The prince's voice was hoarse with pain, but genuinely curious.

"Well," Thranduil replied, "If you had seen Mordax flying out of the forest as if all of Mordor was behind him, you'd know something was wrong. And if he stopped so suddenly that the two elves riding him flew off, turn and run back into the forest, you'd start to worry. And if the two elves came running up to the gate babbling frantically about orcs and acts of craziness, you'd know that something needed to be done—right away."

"What were orcs doing so close to the gates?" Elrond asked as he unbuttoned Legolas' tunic to better see the cuts. "Did they say anything?"

Legolas began, slowly at first, to tell of what had happened after he had sent the twins on their way. He was unable to keep the disgust from crossing his face as he spoke about the sandals of elf-skin, and the twins showed downright revulsion.

The room was silent as he finished his tale, before Elrohir asked quietly, "What would their master want with us? We have done nothing."

"It still does not make sense. This is a puzzle with many pieces missing, and a possibly deadly time limit." Elrond said, winding a long bandage across the prince's chest.

"I will send extra patrols to the borders." The king said, rising to his feet. "Whoever is threatening us will soon regret it."

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**AN: **Sorry, not exactly a good chappy for making you wait so long. I will hopefully be posting regularly again from now on. _Mists of Memory _is giving me a whole bunch of trouble, but I won't stop working on it. (This one either, don't worry!)

Oh, and just a heads up: From June 1 to June 21, I will be in California, with out computer access. I'll keep writing though, so as soon as I get back a chappy will go up.

**Thanx to:**

**NuEvil: **Long fic, eh? My muse will begin working immediately. (She's been very lazy as of late.) Hope you liked!

**Ceriadera: **Here's your update! Sorry it wasn't soon though. smiles ruefully

**werewolflemming: **Thanx, I had so much fun writing that!

**swasti: **Thanx for reviewing!

**Someone Reading: **Thanks for the praise, I try to make it descriptive as possible! As for Legolas being trained before the twins, I just had to!

**kel: **Hey, you found this one! I like elflings too! I think Legolas looks about 15 and the twins a bit younger, maybe a year. They're 52 years younger than Legolas, (according to my source) but as we all know, that's just a breath to the elves.

**Deana: **Thanx for the correction, I was wondering about that!

**theo darkstar: **Yes, more of the twins! Not so much in this chapter, but lots more in future ones! As for _Arguments and Attack of the Squirrels, _I'm thinking….

**Shauna: **In my source, Legolas is 2,931 years at the time of the Quest. Which means he was born in the year 87. According to Tolkien, the twins were born 52 years later. So, that's just how I had it.

**theamazinftechnocoloredringwraith: **First off, I LOVE your name, made me laugh. Yes evil ending, I'm afraid I'm getting kinda attached to the cliffies… Sorry I haven't updated 'soon', but here's the next one! Don't even get me started on teachers… lol…

**darklink231: **Thanx for reviewing!

**Haldir's Heart and Soul: **Thanx for reviewing!

**Indigo-moon: **Continuing…. Thanx so much for your kind words, made me happy! Yes, Legolas is, well, kind of strange, but I had a vision of him being just plain clumsy unless it's with his weapons, and it stuck. Sorry, there isn't much of the twins in this chappy, but they will return, in great force in chappy three!

**Elemental flair: **Continuing… Thanx for your review!

**firehottie: **Thanx for your review!


	3. Jokes, grounding, and very bored elfling...

**Disclaimer: **I own the elves, oh yes I do. All for me and none for you. But Tolkien doesn't like it, oh can't you see? He's takingthem back, away from me.

**AN: **Yea, another update. Ok, for anyone who's wondering, I will be updating _Mists of Memory _before another chappy of this comes out. It's about time I work on it… cheers happily Yes! School's out tomorrow, I'm a Freshman next year! Bye-bye eighth grade!

This is a kind of funny chappy, but the next one will be very long and way more intriguing… **A. NuEvil, **don't worry, you'll find out a lot next chappie!

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Legolas sighed and looked restlessly 'round the room. Although he protested greatly, he had been firmly told to stay in bed and not to move while his father and Elrond left to discuss the orcs. The twins had fallen asleep, nestled into their chairs.

He didn't want to wake them up, but he was so _bored! _As usual when he was bored, his eyes wandered and his mind began to work deviously. His eye fell on the bowl of still steaming oatmeal he had been told to eat. Definitely _not _his favorite.

His father had said he was being ridiculous, oatmeal was perfectly good. _Well, _he thought sneakily, _if it's so good, maybe I should share it. _

With a glance at the twins to assure they were asleep, the prince slipped noiselessly out of bed, taking care not to bump his arm in it's sling. The door had been left open a crack. _Most helpful… _

Gingerly climbing onto a chair, he balanced the large bowl delicately atop the frame. Eyeing it critically, he moved it a hair to the left. Still not satisfied, he stepped off the chair and rummaged through one of the many cupboards lining the room.

Emerging with a small vial corked with oak, the prince stopped cold as Elrohir twisted in his sleep, bumping into his brother. The latter didn't even open his eyes as he swatted Elrohir away. They settled and Legolas moved again, clambering back onto the chair.

Swirling the contents, (nearly dropping it in the process) his slender fingers uncorked the vial and held it over the bowl, neatly upending it. Sticking his index finger into the bowl, he stirred the mix.

Elladan stirred, his eyes slowly unglazing as he returned to the land of the living. Legolas slid off the chair and back into bed just as Elladan came fully awake. He stretched lazily and crossed the room.

Legolas watched helplessly as the twin began to ease open the door, so intent on not awakening his friend that he did not even notice the oatmeal teetering over his head. Teetered, teetered, but did not fall.

The prince watched in amazement as the elf closed the door back to its original position, just as slow and quiet. Was it possible he had seen it? No, the prince decided, he probably just had a lot of practice sneaking in and out of rooms.

_Just as well. It wasn't meant for him._

Sitting up, he reached behind him and brought out one of the intricately designed pillows. Now that the excitement was over, he bored again. Sitting in bed was not one of his strong suits.

Spying the still-sleeping Elrohir, the wood-elf contemplated the idea of throwing the pillow at him and waking him up. _No, too mean. _Instead, he reached for a canteen on his bedside table.

Elrohir didn't so much as flinch as the first droplets hit, and Legolas, not getting the desired result, went ahead and deployed the entire canteen. Elrohir came awake with a shriek, twisting about so violently, he toppled of the chair.

Rushing footsteps sounded outside the door, which swung open quickly. The oatmeal tipped and fell, coating Elladan and spattering Thranduil.

The king surveyed the scene, one twin dripping with water on the floor, one twin spitting oatmeal, and his son sitting up in bed, eyes wide, cheeks pink from holding in the laughter.

"_Green _oatmeal, _ion-nin_?" Thranduil asked, raising an elegant eyebrow. Legolas responded with a barely concealed snicker.

Elrohir turned, brushing back his dark hair. His twin pushed the oatmeal back on his head and turned his vengeful gaze on Legolas.

"You're causing a _lot _of trouble lately, Legolas." The king remarked. "Oatmeal, water over my door, short-sheeting beds, fixing doors so the handle's come off in your hand, traps, switches, what next? I'll leave you to the twins, I believe they want to… 'talk' with you." He began to back out of the door.

Legolas sighed, extremely grateful that no one had mentioned his involvement with the honey.

Thranduil's head popped back in, eyes twinkling. "Oh yes, & you're grounded for a week. You should know better than to set traps along the main path."

Legolas slumped, breath coming out in a huff. "Again?" He asked the empty air. "But I just got off yesterday!" He eyed the twins warily. "And it's dangerous in here!"

_Click._

"You--you!" Sputtered Elladan. His fair skin was now tinged a light green.

The wood-elf laughed, but the usual bell-like tone was missing, he was more nervous than mirthful. "I did not mean to get you. It was supposed to get Ada."

"Oh, and I suppose _all _of your pranks backfire on unsuspecting guests?"

"No, not really. If they backfire at all, they usually get me. You're jinxed." The twins advanced a step and his eyes widened in alarm. Putting one foot on the floor, he gauged the distance to the door and the time it would take to get out.

Elrohir hesitated. "Wait, gwador-nin. Proper revenge can't be taken now. He has to be able to defend himself."

"Good point, 'Ro. We'll wait a couple days."

Legolas watched as they headed out the door. "That's a lovely color on you!" he called, and immediately regretted it. The looks in their eyes made him wonder if it was a good idea to let them have a few days to think about their revenge.

His mind went through about twenty counter-pranks before he calmed himself. He would have to see how the twins worked before deciding how to fight back.

His eyes fell on his knives, which had been brought back an hour earlier. Orc blood no longer covered the blades. The metal etched with an intricate leaf design, gleamed in a shaft of sunlight.

Stretching out a finger, he traced the curve of the blade, almost trancelike. Seeing the battle in memory, as though it was happening in front of his eyes, he searched for his mistakes. His trainer, Valamas had taught him that. Valamas…

Mirkwood's weapon trainer was quite possible the grumpiest, toughest elf in all of Middle Earth. Common rumor had it that he wasn't an elf at all, but a shell with a heart of stone and brilliant reflexes and battle techniques. And a quick temper. Not even Legolas dared to trick or poke fun at him.

Drawing such unpleasant thoughts from his mind, Legolas' attention next fell on a tapestry on the opposite wall. No direct scene was immediately apparent, but if you simply gazed at it and let your eyes glaze over, a tunnel appeared out of the swirl of colors.

However, the instant you tried to look closer, the image vanished, disappeared to hide in the mirage.

Legolas cocked his head to the side, keen eyes searching the tapestry. Only when he gave up and let his eyes unfocus, did it reappear. The temptation was too much for the prince, and he got up and crossed the room, stopping just short of the tapestry.

Many such hangings were in the palace, near to 30 at least, yet Legolas had never paid attention to them, preferring actual scenes to mad swirls.

He lifted the tapestry, stepping behind it and critically surveying the stone wall, which at first glance, appeared perfectly normal. On closer inspection, running his fingers lightly along the stone, he discovered a small indent about waist high.

Cautiously, he pressed inward. With a slow, deep rumble comparable to a hungry hobbit belly, the wall cracked open, revealing a rough tunnel with others branching off in all directions. Torched burned brightly, yet the musty air suggested that no one had been there for a long time.

Normally, nothing would have stopped him from going in and looking around, but something about this tunnel spooked him. Something about it seemed… wrong. But the prospect of adventure and excitement was too strong. He stepped slowly over the lip of the passage.

When nothing jumped out to behead him, Legolas continued forward, trying to keep a general sense of where he was. It wasn't too difficult, the passages seemed to run in almost the same layout as the palace.

Turning a corner, he nearly knocked himself flat by running into a dead end. He was about to turn, when voices sounded, muffled but discernable. "The orcs are from a land we do not know, but suspect lies somewhere in the north, bearing a mark that we don't recognize.

Legolas froze. That was his Ada's voice! Making a quick calculation, he realized that on the other side of the wall, lay Thranduil's study! There was _so _much potential there—if he could find out how to open the door. There was no indent on this side.

A chilling thought occurred to him then—if there was no indent, on this or any other 'door', how was he to get out? Instantly the walls seemed to close in around him, the torches to dim. Thoughts of eavesdropping fled from his mind as one priority presented itself: getting out!

Turning, he fled, passageways flashing by, so desperate to get out, that he didn't even notice the tunnel's floor sloping downwards, when it should have been angling up.

The rocky tube narrowed, and stopped altogether. Now in a full panic, he spun about and raced back the opposite direction. By some miracle, he arrived back at his room, where the door was still open. He rushed through the crack, nearly ripping down the tapestry in his haste to get out on the balcony.

Fresh air and open space assailed his senses. The panic faded away as a gentle breeze washed over him. Sunlight had never felt so good. Chest burning from the flat out run, he inhaled, smelling the sweet scent of trees and listened to their far off whispers. Glancing back into the room, bright as it was, gave his the creeps, and it was several hours before he went back in.

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For the next four days, Legolas was confined to his room, leaving only for meals. Back in his real bedroom, instead of those dratted healing quarters, he searched through every book of Mirkwood he could find, with no mention of the passages.

He did not tell anyone of his adventure, not even his father or the twins, whom he saw periodically. But sooner or later he would go back down. It was not his nature to run from something.

Meanwhile, the orc mystery just grew. Several parties were caught trying to sneak into the palace, but with the upped security, none made it far. The identity of the leaders and origin remained hidden. If caught, the orc would either provoke the elf into killing it, or commit suicide, both very un-orc-like things to do.

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Legolas was lying flat on his back with his feet up on the wall drumming out an incessant rhythm when his ada entered.

"Having fun, Thranduilion?"

Legolas jumped and leaped to his feet. "Ada, I've never been so bored in my life! There's only so many times you can read your books before you have them memorized! Did you know that there's 4, 897 threads per square foot on my comforter? I can't even go outside now, all my clothes are wet from being out in the rain for the past three days! I'm going nuts!"

"Ah, no difference then. How would you like a reprieve?" The king smiled as his son's clear blue eyes lit up. "I thought so. Do you know what day it is?"

Legolas thought for a second and counted on his fingers. A joyful smile appeared on his face as he exclaimed, "The Festival!"

The king grinned in spite of himself. All of Mirkwood enjoyed the Festival of Change. It was a celebration of spring and summer beginning, and winter coming to an end. Light and happy at first, as the day grew into night, the elves retreated into the deep forest and told stories and sang songs, of olden times, and even some ghost stories.

"Can I go?"

For a split second Thranduil thought of the honey covered Imladris family, whole scores of wet, ripped clothes, and the still-green Elladan. But then, looking at the big, pleading eyes, how could he say no?

"Of… course."

Legolas leaped straight into the air with a yell and dashed toward his Ada for a great hug. "Thankyouthankyouthankyou!" Then he was gone, out the door at full speed.

He was halfway down the hall before he realized he had no idea where the twins were staying. The problem was solved minutes later as a yell echoed out from a door on the left. "You did _what?_"

Cautiously entering the room, the prince smiled as Elrohir leaped at his brother, brandishing a pillow. "You rotten little…"

"Have you forgotten, _gwador-nin? _I am the eldest, therefore, you have no right to call _me _little."

"Well," Legolas spoke up quickly, before Elrohir could get even angrier. "Are you ready for the festival?"

"Hey, _tithen-las! _You're Ada said you can go?"

Legolas paused and glared. "Where. Did . You. Hear. That?"

Elladan shrugged merrily. "I heard the cooks talking about you in the kitchens yesterday. You really used to be quite the troublemaker didn't you?"

"If you _ever _call me that again, you'll get some nice brown to go with that green. Make you into a _real _Wood-elf."

Elladan's face darkened slightly, he had no desire to become any more colored than he already was.

"Let's go eat dinner! With other elves! In the Hall!"

Elrohir laughed. "You need to get out more." Nevertheless, he moved out the door. His Ada had told him about the Mirkwood feasts, and he was drooling just thinking about it. Legolas bounced after him, obviously happy to be out of his room, if only for one night.

Elladan followed, more slowly. Although he was also eager to get to the Hall, (for more reasons than one) he got a funny feeling. A tingle along his spine told him that something was going to happen tonight, something exciting.

But until then, he had an appointment to keep. In a very short while, Legolas Greenleaf would be very sorry he ever crossed the twins of Imladris.

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**Thanks to:**

**Haldir's Heart and Soul: **Yes! No killing Legolas, that would be too damn evil. I couldn't (wouldn't) do that, not unless there was some way to bring him back to life or I had a very good reason for it.

**Deana: **Thanx for reviewing!

**Sila ninque: **Great idea! I know exactly the person who would take her place. she looks at my evil dreamy smile, squeaks in terror and starts brainstorming busily Thanx for the review, glad it made you laugh!

**NuEvil: **Children (especially mischievous elflings _never _listen. Thranduil will find that out the hard way. Hee hee hee… Thanx for the review, I like putting little humor things in there…

**Soph: **Thank you, ya, I know, bad me…. I don't like being OOC, but once in a while I do it… then hate it and usually end up changing it…. Thanx for reviewing!


	4. Revenge of the Twins and spooky voices

**Disclaimer:** Zip a dee doo dah, zip a dee ay. My, oh my what a wonderful day. Plenty of elflings, coming my way. Zip a dee doo dah, zipa dee ay. Hobbits and elf kings, not mine today. But they will be, one of these days!

**AN: **My grandmother got a laptop. (Hmmm, what wrong with this picture? Grandma and Mom have one… and I don't. Jeeze the younger generation has it rough… jk) neway, Thank you so much for all the lovely reviews! places hand over heart and lets several tears roll delicately down face so touched…

Oh yes, and to **A. NuEvil, **I am so sorry, My computer deleted the **A. **on the last thank you's, I'll fix that. My bad…

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Legolas surveyed the Hall with a delighted leer on his face that made his companions slightly nervous. Four days was really too long for a rambunctious elf-prince to be cooped up in a room.

He managed to contain his obvious glee at being able to attend an actual dinner. Elves waved and a couple cheers rang out as he proudly took his place at Thranduil's left. The twins watched eagerly as he plopped down into the chair, not even noticing the slight give of the wood.

They discreetly high-fived each other beneath the table as they took their own seats across from the prince. Things should go exactly as planned.

The first, second and third course passed uneventfully, unless you counted the minor squeaks of embarrassment from Legolas as his Ada recounted some of the more embarrassing things he had done, whether they be accident or purposeful. Such as the time he was not paying attention to which door he was walking into, rather preoccupied with an old book, and ended up in a maiden's dressing room.

The prince's neck and cheeks began to turn pink and he coughed suddenly as he downed a glass of water. That had been highly embarrassing, since it was entirely accidental, no matter what Nethidal had said. Weeks had passed before he could look the maiden in the eyes without losing his voice or turning beet red.

The prince was turning a delightful shade of purple, pointedly not looking at the howling twins and busied himself with a mouthful of venison.

"OK, can we not talk about those things anymore?" Asked Legolas pleadingly. "Isn't it enough that I had to live through it, never mind being reminded of it? Besides, look, dessert's coming!"

A great array of desserts, pudding, cakes, and many elvish pastries were brought in, and the laughter and chatter died down to a low mumbling as the elves loaded their plates and began chewing.

As Legolas loaded his plate, finding that he did indeed have room for more, he leaned way over to the right, fingers stretching for a bowl of whipped cream. His chair gave a crack of protest. He casually glanced down to see what the problem was, all the while leaning even further.

He looked down just in time to see the halfway sawed through chair legs give way with a crack. Letting out a most undignified shriek, he went down, fingers clutching at the tablecloth in a vain effort to catch himself. Bad idea.

The tablecloth went down with him, frosting, pudding, and pies landing directly a top of him. Trying to leap up and away from the table, Legolas got his foot entangled in the cloth and went back down with a huge thud. Now in a blind panic, he pulled away but only succeeded in wrapping the tablecloth further around his body.

Rolling onto his back, he finally stopped moving and glared across the table at Elladan and Elrohir, who were trying most unsuccessfully to refrain from laughing. As a matter of fact, the entire Hall rocked with merry laughter.

Face burning beneath the whipped cream, Legolas struggled to his feet with only a minor stumble. Arms pinned to his sides, he wriggled out of his cocoon, eyes burning with wrath.

Advancing toward the twins, who were preoccupied congratulating each other, he snatched up two mostly undamaged pies and let them fly. Elladan turned incredulously, peering through cherry filling, and his brother wiped away blueberry. Legolas noted with some satisfaction that the younger twin was now stained pink.

Turning, he began to stalk out of the Hall content that some of his dignity had been saved. Flinging open the door, he was rewarded with a bucket of hot sauce. Spluttering, wiping frantically at his eyes, he felt for the door frame and leaned against it. Laughter reached his ears, and his face began to burn again.

Turning ever so slowly, he pointed at the twins and beckoned to them. They came slowly, slightly apprehensive, but mostly laughing. Sneezing, eyes burning, he led the way outside and to a pond.

"Very nice." He said dryly, plunging his head into the water. One rough push later, and he was sitting in the pool, water streaming through his hair. "You little--! I oughtta…"

Twin yells followed as the twins jumped into the pool, submerging completely and vigorously scrubbing at their hair in an attempt to get the crust out.

Legolas climbed out of the pond and sat on a rock, wringing his clothes out and still spitting out the taste of spice. "How long have you been planning that?"

"Ever since you dumped the honey on us. And the oatmeal and rude awakening helped speed things up."

"Well, I'm touched by your attention, but if you want to stay on my good side, you'd better knock it off."

"Why?" Elladan spit a stream of water in Legolas' general direction. "Are you the kind of elf who holds a grudge?"

"No!" Legolas exclaimed, highly offended. "And I am never going to forget you said that. Now, do you want to go exploring or not?"

"I don't know." Elrohir said doubtfully. "The last time we went 'exploring', you got attacked by orcs."

"Well, let's put it this way… are you afraid of tunnels?"

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"Why are we here again?"

"I want to see Mordax. You can wait for a few minutes. Don't you want to see him? He did let you ride him."

"Yes, well, he also flipped us over his head at the end."

"At the moment, I'm not sure I blame him. Shhh, let me go first."

Legolas vaulted the stall door as he had done so many times before. Mordax whickered happily as the prince ran his hands along the strong frame. "Hello, my _dold bennas._ How are you?"

Mordax snorted and laid his big head on the prince's shoulder. Legolas gave it a quick hug, and then a gentle slap. "Now, I told you not to throw my friends off. I appreciate your coming back for me, but do you think you could have let them _climb _off?"

The stallion pranced backward and tossed his head proudly.

"Hmmph." Legolas ran his hand along his horse's side, gently checking the white bandage that stood out clearly against the black hide. He snorted in disgust and anger, sounding more like Mordax than he knew, a fact that Elrohir pointed out in a low whisper.

Mordax sidled, ears pricked toward the door. Legolas reprimanded him with a mild cuff. "Behave! That's Elrohir and Elladan. You owe them an apology. Come here, guys."

The twin's heads poked around a corner, followed by a couple of very fidgety bodies. Legolas pushed open the door and motioned them closer. "He won't bite." Then, in an undertone, "Don't you dare bite."

"You behave! They won't hurt you, they won't hurt me, they're decent elves. Unless you get on their bad side. Now apologize."

Mordax flicked his tail irritably, then nickered and stretched out his neck, allowing the twins to touch his nose for a brief instant, then lowered himself into a graceful bow.

Abruptly, he reared back and flailed at the air. Legolas ducked out of the way and soothed him, the twins turned and ran. "Well. That was a start." The prince admitted pleased that everything had gone so well. That was the absolute best behavior he had ever been on. "Maybe there's hope for you yet." He whispered, patting the neck one last time and hurrying to catch up to the twins.

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"OK, are you ready?"

Elladan nodded, eyeing the passage nervously. They had gone back to the palace, changed clothes, and listened to some of the story telling. The twins had listened to Mirkwood's old tales with fascination.

Along with stories, there were also songs. Legolas had sung with another elf, a chanting rhythmic piece, very short by the standards of the elves, but nice all the same.

Maybe we should all look back  
And see how far we've come  
Dancing under the glitt'ring stars  
And rising with the sun. Remember the days  
And nights of old  
Feel the sun upon your back  
And see the fireflies, sparkle gold. The memories and familiar sights  
We see in all our dreams  
But how to know in the time of night  
If things are indeed as they seem Times of darkness guide us now  
The trees will help as well  
Shall we fade into the West?  
Only time will tell. 

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Before anyone had a chance to say anything, the prince snatched the neck of Elladan's tunic and Elrohir's sleeve. "Come on, now's our chance, when they're changing musicians."

Pulling them along, he had dragged them up to his room and showed them how to open the passage.

"Are you sure it's safe?" Elrohir asked timidly.

Legolas shrugged. "It's pretty sound. We have to wedge something in the door to keep it from shutting, but otherwise, yes, it's safe."

"And you've done this how many times before?"

"Well, come on, what are we waiting for?" Legolas shoved them forward and pulled the door shut behind him, checking that the tunic would indeed keep the door from totally closing.

"Well," Elrohir remarked. "If we run into any trouble, we can always ask you to sing and scare them away."

"Shut up."

They slowly started forward, not exactly scared, but not so much at ease that they would burst out in song. "You've lived here all your life and never noticed this?" Elladan asked skeptically,

"Well, I wasn't exactly inclined to sit in one place staring at a tapestry for hours on end." Legolas replied snippily. "I had better things to do, like stay out of reach of Ada and anyone else I happened to catch in a trick."

"Hey, we're going down." Elrohir noted in surprise.

"Gee, we've been going down for the past 15 minutes, 'Ro." His brother remarked snidely.

"No, I mean it's _really _sloping. Uh, Legolas, I've got a bad feeling about this."

"Now what? Look, there's absolutely nothing to be scared—_AAAAAIIIIIII!_" Legolas scrambled madly backward, plowing into the twins and ending up on the floor. He backed against them, eyes fixed on the skeleton hidden in a small nook.

"Who—what—is _that_?" Elladan gasped out.

"I don't know, and I don't care!" Legolas leaped to his feet and turned, fully intending to race all the way back to the Hall and leap into his Ada's arms. But there was a slight problem. "Which way do we go?"

The tunnels branched off in many different directions; the skeleton was at a crossroad of sorts. Seven passageways arced off in different directions. And he had no idea where to go. They were—

"—_So _doomed." Elrohir was saying. "Don't you have _any _clues to our whereabouts?"

Legolas shook his head, completely at a loss. "No. Not even our dungeons reach this far. We passed what was probably the turnoff for them half an hour ago. I'm guessing… that way."

The twins exchanged a glance. "I _knew _something bad was going to happen!" moaned Elrohir. "I _knew _it!"

"Oh hush, you big baby. Let him think." Elladan scolded, gently. He was not entirely comfortable so deep underground himself, but though the tunnels _were _interesting, he had no desire to spend the rest of his life trapped down there.

Legolas stood completely still, ears pricked. He could hear something… but where was it? More importantly, _what _was it? A voice? Coming from… "That way."

He began to jog down the darkest creepiest tunnel there was. Elrohir's groan probably could have been heard at the feast, and Elladan grabbed him by the nape of the neck and dragged him along.

Down, down, ever down, with the echoing voice reaching the twin's ears as well. It bounced off the walls, creating a sound wave that increased in pitch as they got deeper. Without warning, the ground opened underneath Legolas and he plummeted from sight.

Elladan skidded to a halt at the brink of the abyss, teetering off balance. Just as he thought he was home free, his brother slammed into him, sending them both hurtling down a steep slope, bouncing along the rough, rocky incline and coming to rest directly upon their friend.

"Ow."

"Oh dear."

"Valar, some help would be appreciated."

Elladan untangled himself from Elrohir and sat up, peering through the murky dark. Torches burned above them, but there were none in the pit where they had fallen. It was so dark, even their elven eyes could barely see their hands in front of their faces.

Legolas shoved what appeared to be a foot out of his rib cage and stretched, feeling along the wall. "Are you both ok?"

"Oh yes, we fell down into a pit and we're stuck in a tunnel with no idea how to get out. Everything's just peachy."

"Ha ha, 'Dan. Where are you, Legolas?"

"Well, I think you're sitting on me, for one thing. In case that's too complicated, look down." Legolas felt the weight shift and remove itself. "_Diola lle. _Now, how do we get out of here?"

"Don't ask us. It wasn't our bright idea to come down here."

"OK, you know what, Elladan, your sarcasm isn't helping. Shut up."

"Thank you, 'Ro. Now let's see. Oh, here's where we fell down, if we follow it back up, we should be able to find our way back from there."

The long slow trek back up the incline was not pleasant. Rocks kept sliding out from under them, more often than not putting them back a few feet. The fact that they couldn't see what was happening around them did not help.

Up toward the top, things got better, then worse. The good news, light began to filter down through the gloom, making it much easier to navigate. The bad news—the steep slope became an almost vertical wall of stone for the last eight feet.

Amid muttered curses and general bad moods all around, they attacked the wall with a savage ferocity. And learned the hard way that slippery cracks and bumps in the walls are better handled with slow, precise measures.

"Well, this worked like a dream." Legolas Greenleaf muttered unhappily, clinging to the wall like a spider, limbs stretched to reach the firmest cracks. His hand stretched, reaching for the lip of the drop-off and coming up six inches too short. He couldn't drop back to the ground to try again, the slope was so steep he'd end up back at the bottom. And he couldn't reach the top, no matter how hard he stretched. He was stuck, unless one of the twins reached the top and pulled him up.

A cool, clammy hand wrapped around his wrist and pulled, lifted him up with almost unnatural strength, depositing him on the edge. "By the Valar, you're stronger than you look!"

"Who are you talking to?" Chorused two voices. Puzzled, Legolas leaned over the lip and saw the twins clinging to the wall, in almost the same predicament he had been in not 30 seconds earlier.

He spun, looking for his rescuer, but saw no one. Frowning, he gave his friends a hand up and turned again, searching the passageway again. "Did you see anybody…?"

"No. Why?"

"Never mind. Now, how do we get out of here?"

A cool breeze played around them, curling around their arms and raising the hairs on the back of their necks. A voice that could have shattered glass, it was so cool, resounded.

"Why have you entered my lair?"

"Um, _your _lair? I don't understand…"

"Ah, they never do, young prince, don't worry. You're not alone there."

Legolas whirled about, searching for the source of the voice. Elladan and Elrohir moved forward, presenting a united front.

"And look who we have here. The sons of Elrond as well!" The voice sounded genuinely pleased, and the coolness lifted off a bit. "What honor have I done to deserve this?"

"Who are you? For that matter, _where _are you? How can you see us if we cannot see you?" Legolas tried to keep his voice steady, but it cracked on the last _you. _

The voice noted the slight tremble, as did the twins. "You're not _scared _of me, are you _little _prince?" It asked in amusement and delight.

"Whether it was the insult to his courage, or the slight accentuation of the word 'little, (Elladan suspected the latter) Legolas pulled himself together and held back the impulse to run yammering for all he was worth. "We're not leaving until you answer us."

"_Us?_" Elrohir whispered in alarm. Legolas paid them no mind.

"Who are _you, _to order _me?_" The voice screeched. The temperature dropped, and mist swirled around their legs. Unintentionally, Legolas faltered backwards. "You cannot enforce this demand! Unless you have a weapon other than your dagger, my orcs will have your heads in seconds. This time, I'll let them kill you. Oh, by the way? How is your horse?"

Rage flowed through Legolas' veins as the mention of Mordax brought to mind the incident nearly five days before. He stepped forward, intent on finding the owner of the voice and strangling them.

An arrow flew out of the darkness, skittered at his feet. He jumped backwards, and only the quickness of the twins saved him from another nasty tumble. "Get _out_ of my tunnels! _OUT! _Your kind do not belong here! Leave _now_! When you get to the seven branches, take the far left. Good bye."

Another arrow shot out of the darkness, narrowly missing Elrohir's head. He yelled and ran, brother and friend close behind.

Legolas fumbled for his dagger, the pounding of his feet matching the pounding of his heart. He turned only once to hurl the weapon at an uncomfortably close bow-legged shape. He noted, with some satisfaction, that the choked scream did not last very long.

The howls of fury on the other hand, scared him out of a hundred years growth.

"Gee, thanks a lot! Make them _really _mad why don't you?"

"Oh, all right, I just thought maybe you'd prefer running to getting your head chopped off. But if not, the latter can definitely be arranged!"

Elladan wisely chose to keep quiet.

With the orcan shriek in their ears, (and occasionally some of their own) they made their way back to Legolas' room.

They entered somewhat unceremoniously, tumbling in a heap. Legolas extricated himself and flung his body at the door, slamming it shut just as the first orc turned the last corner. Bracing against the door, (he fully expected the creatures to try and break it down), he was surprised when the expected pounding did not occur.

After several moments, he stepped away with a nervous glance in the twin's direction. "Do _you _think they're gone?"

"Do _you _want to look?" Elrohir replied.

"Point taken."

"Look, I hate interrupting this enlightening conversation, " Elladan remarked, "but shouldn't we go tell the king?"

"I knew that." Legolas raced for the door. Suddenly he came to a complete stop, causing the Elladan and Elrohir to slam into him once again. Hopping over the sprawled, cursing Noldor elves, he whirled around his room snatching his bow, knives and about four other daggers.

"Have enough there?"

Legolas appeared from under his bed, clutching his quiver. "I think so. We're going into the wood you know."

"But I thought your Ada said that on the festival day nothing would attack the path." Elrohir protested.

"Oh that. We're not taking the path." He stopped, a diabolical grin coming over his face. "Can you imitate ghosts?"

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**AN: **Ahh, well, hate to say it but I'm thinking of not continuing this story… jk, actually, I'm pretty happy with the way this is turning out, so I'm definitely going to finish it. And I swear on my _complete _boxed set, platinum, special edition, Extended version, LotR DvD's that you will get at least one update each week. Seeing as it's summer vacation, I have waaaay too much time on my hands. And keep a look out for _Return of the Squirrels, _part II of the Squirrel Chronicles, coming soon to a site near you! Ahem, I'm better now.

The authoress would like to thank: 

**werewolflemming: **Thanks, I like making my disclaimer fun-it keeps me from falling asleep when I write it… I love secret passageways, but I wouldn't want to be lost in one. –shudders- I have a penchant for coloring food, (green and blue pancakes, red cheerios etc) so I just made it dye instead of food coloring. Do they even _have _food coloring in middle earth?

**Slayer3: **ok, here's moremoremoremoremore! Glad you like it so much! Ah, another completely obsessed person! Nice to meet you! Btw, did it annoy you at all when they didn't put the twins in the movie? I know it ticked _me _off!

**Haldir's Heart and Soul: **Pride… it's all about the pride…

**Cklovesme2040: **Eep! Sorry this one took so long! Thanks for your review!

**The AmazingTechnocolorRingWraith: **Some questions are hopefully answered, while more appear… jeez I suck at being an oracle.

**Romen: **Updated. Updated. Updated. Reboot. Reboot. Ahem, I'm high on Baby Bottle Pops, _scusi. _Thanks for reviewing!

**darklink231: **I love mischievous elves! Thank you, thank you very much. (Jeez, I can't even imitate Elvis on the computer)

**firehottie: **Thanks!

**Aranna Undomiel: **Thank you, happy you like it! I absolutely love the 'young troublemaker' stories, especially as the elves are so serious in the movies and books. Go twins!


	5. Festivities, Lies and spirits, oh my!

**Disclaimer: **I own the evil demon armies of psychotic penguins that are out to destroy the world of broccoli, but not any of this.

**AN: **Sorry for the horribly late update, I've gone a wee bit crazy trying to figure out how to word this, it gave me _no _end of trouble. Oh well… And btw, ya'll should check out **Aurehen**'s stories, _Too Much Darkness in a Day, _and _A Brother's Safety. _The first one is completed, and the second is just begun, hurry, go catch it! WAIT… come back, read this first…

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Thranduil surveyed his people happily. They danced around the clearing, rejoicing in the forest around and the twinkling stars above. It was one of the few times a year when the elves could safely feast and sing inside the forest without worry.

The relative safety was brought by a new trick, developed by elves skilled in the arcane. The clearing was lit normally, with lamps and fires, but a spell was placed around the edge of the clearing, warding orcs and spiders. If any such creature got too close, the lights would extinguish, plunging the clearing into darkness. The elves would then be able to flee from the intruders.

The spell was still on trial, but the few times before, it had performed well. As a result, no elf was required to bring the more cumbersome weapons, carrying only concealed daggers.

"A well and joyous festival, Thranduil." The king turned and smiled.

"Aye. It has always done wonders when my people are cloaked with worry." He accepted a goblet of wine from the laden table and passed one to Elrond.

They raised the heavy goblets in a silent toast and drank. "The stars are almost at the correct height. The ghost stories will start soon. If, in fact, they _are _just stories."

Elrond glanced around in interest—or maybe suspicion. That sounds like something one of my sons would say. Speaking of which, you haven't seen them have you?"

Thranduil shook his head. "Nor mine. Not since—well, you know." He stifled a laugh. "I will _never _forget the look on Legolas' face. Pure shock. I don't know if anyone has ever done something so spectacular back to him."

Elrond laughed. "He may as well get used to it. Especially if he insists on covering them with food. They are rather reluctant to let someone get the best of them. I _did _tell them to behave, and if something winds up getting broken I will make them replace it."

Thranduil waved a hand. "Don't worry about it. As long as they don't thoroughly destroy the palace. I rather enjoy watching prank wars. From afar, of course."

A horn sounded, and the music stopped. Everyone turned toward the far end of the clearing where an elf stood, hand raised for silence. "Deep in the forest, there lurks an ancient evil…"

And so the stories began.

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"Are you sure about this?" Elladan looked nervously at the tree in front of him.

"Of course! Come, there is nothing to worry about. The trees are quite safe."

"What about the spiders?" Elrohir countered. "And --well…"

Legolas leaped up and grasped a thick branch. Hanging there he asked impatiently, "Well, what is it? Spit it out!"

"Well… it takes great balance to tree-hop, right? And, you've got to admit, you're not exactly—graceful."

The wood-elf dropped back down to the ground, eyes flashing. "You've been talking to my Ada, haven't you? I am _not _clumsy! So I trip a little more often than the average elf, that's all!" Almost under his breath, he added, "Honestly, to hear Ada talk, you'd think I spend more time on the ground than upright."

He turned and climbed the tree quickly. Reaching a thick limb some 15 feet above the twin's heads he stopped and made an exaggeratedly flourished bow. "Now, look, I've been doing this since I was 50, and it's perfectly safe! You're not afraid you can't keep up are you?"

That did it. Elladan practically flew up the trunk, Elrohir close behind. "We have trees too, you know." The elder huffed. "I bet we could beat you there."

Legolas half-smiled. It seemed the twins had a bit of competitiveness in them. _Of course, _he mused, _if the table incident is anything to go by. _"If you knew where we were going."

Running lightly along the branch, he leaped, a good 5 feet over to the closest tree. That was the longest jump you would ever have to make in the forests of Mirkwood. The trees grew so close together, they intertwined, creating a sort of path through the trees.

Perhaps if Elladan and Elrohir weren't so preoccupied chasing after their friend, they might have noticed an extra shadow skipping above them. Moving so silently and lightly that the branches did not even shake, the shadow followed, keeping up easily.

Lights began to permeate the gloom of the forest and the prince sighed in relief. Though he would not admit it to anyone, he disliked the forest at night. Well, more exactly, it disquieted him. The trees seemed to shed friendliness and pull on cloaks of evil.

Trees were more or less good things at heart. Of course there were grumpy ones, and yes, some willows were apt to smack you with their whip-like branches, but most of them had good temperaments, and to feel a tree push contact away instead of embracing it was very creepy.

"Okay. Can you hear somebody talking?" A double nod. "That's Deladri. He's the main story-teller. His favorite –and everyone else's- is the _Delu Laith. _He will tell it last. That's when we go."

"So, we just sit here…"

"Yes."

"In the dark creepy forest…"

"_Yes._"

"Listening to _ghost _stories?"

Legolas turned indignantly. "Look, Elrohir, if you're too scared, I'm sure you can go and cuddle in your Ada's arms."

Elrohir bristled. "I'm _not _scared. I just have this feeling… the trees are kind of… you know ominous, don't you think? I feel like I'm being watched."

Legolas glanced around sharply. Tease as he may, the forest was not a thing to take lightly. Shifting silently into a standing position, he moved higher into the branches, hoping that Elrohir was just being silly.

A quick scan of the forest at a different level assured him that nothing was lurking about. But a nagging thought tugged at his mind, and he reluctantly rested a hand against the trunk and tried to slip into the slower time frame in which trees thought and acted.

What he felt shocked him. The tree was blocking him from accessing its mind. It was hiding something.

He tried once more to get the tree to open up, and caught a split-second glimpse of the tree's personality. It was terrified.

The prince dropped back down to the twins, startling and embarrassing them. "Well, well, aren't _we _jumpy? We have to move."

"You would jump too if you'd been listening to a story about a dark elf who drops from the trees and strangles his victims."

Legolas stopped dead. "That was _low, _Elladan. I do _not _look like a dark elf!"

"Sorry."

It was not often you heard Elladan apologize so sincerely, but it _had _been a very offensive implication.

"Come on, we must not stay here. Something's out there."

Elrohir stared hard at the prince. "Are you just trying to scare us, or are you actually serious?"

"I'm being serious. And besides, Deladri is starting the _Delu Laith. _We have to be ready. I want to see the looks on their faces."

"_Delu Laith. _Deadly Spirit. You have way too much time on your hands."

"Well, I _have _been locked in my room for the past four days. Now supposedly, the spirits take over your body, turn you into, the walking dead, I think. And they use you to perform great acts of evil, usually killing and such. That's the shortened version. And what makes it worse, is the fact that it might be real. There's actually been several stories that fit the description. What?"

Elrohir shook his head. "Your poor Ada."

Legolas snorted. "Speak for yourself, _I _worry about Elrond's health. I'm sure that twins are worse than one, especially when they have such great capacity for… mischief."

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Thranduil shivered slightly. Deladri and his stories. The teller had a great gift, the king reflected. Too bad he used it to terrify everyone to death, using smoke and slight magic spells to enhance the mood.

"—and they would continue, with great caution. Once or twice, records have been found documenting instances where the _laith _would openly revolt, taking control of the elf's body and begin its brief but deadly reign.

"One of the advantages of the _laith, _it would often take control of a well-liked elf, therefore making others reluctant to kill it."

A disturbance of the smoke near the top of the trees made every elf look up, sure it was another special effects trick. That sureness evaporated quickly as the smoke swirled, and a figure dropped to the ground stiffly. Every dagger came out of their sheath, and the group waited tersely for the person to reveal itself.

"Hold! Do not throw your weapons, I repeat, do _not _throw your weapons!"

Every eye flicked to the king, who was peering through the mists with a mix of apprehension and fear.

The figure moved forward, walking stiffly, yet silently. The elves relaxed a degree as they recognized their prince. But his blue eyes were deathly cold and ruthless. In confusion, some elves half raised their weapons again, but were reprimanded by the king.

"Legolas, what is wrong?"

Legolas did not reply, but walked forwards, eyes dead set on his father's face. He held a knife close to his side, the edge red with blood.

The tension was broken as the bushes rustled and the twins came racing out, faces filled with terror.

"Ada! Ada, watch out! Don't get close to him!" Elrohir gasped, apparently out of breath from his long run. "He attacked Elladan!"

Elladan waved his father off, face pale. "It's all right Ada, just a scratch. He scared a hundred years out of me, that's all."

"Why did he attack you? Where have you been?"

Legolas had stopped moving, though his eyes remained firmly on Thranduil. The king did not pay any attention whatsoever to Elrond's interrogation, he was busy searching his son's face for a flicker of recognizable emotions.

The prince moved forward, knife raised. Thranduil held the elves off with a raised hand. He would not allow them to strike down his only son, even if it meant sacrificing his own life.

What had happened? Why was Legolas acting in such a manner? Unbidden, the story Deladri had been relating rose to his mind. The spirits that took control over the bodies of unsuspecting elves…

No! Not until the dagger driven by his son's hand entered his heart would he believe his son lost. "Hold your daggers." The words demanded respect and immediate obedience.

A harsh voice, entirely unlike Legolas' soft tone grated from his throat. "Why would you not kill one who stands before you, threatening your life?"

"I would rather die than watch my son expire in front of my eyes."

Thranduil spoke these words proudly, knowing that they rang true with all his heart.

The prince was momentarily distracted as his eyes flicked to the twins. The corner of his mouth gave the smallest twitch, then returned to normal. "Well then, I—" he stopped short, raising his dagger menacingly, tensing muscles in preparation for his attack, "suppose you'll…"

Again, the elf's eye flicked to Elladan and Elrohir, and this time, something just short of a grin took his face before he brought himself under control again—barely. "I suppose—"

A sound suspiciously like a snicker escaped him. Fighting a grin, his voice cracked helplessly on the last syllable.

Dragging his eyes from the scene of apparent madness in front of him, Thranduil spared a quick glance at the twins, who were making the most awful faces behind their Ada's back.

The prince dropped the dagger and sat down heavily on the leaf-carpeted ground, laughing for all he was worth. "I almost had him!" he gasped out. "And you and your grimaces—"

The tension broke. Thranduil swooped down on his son, giving him a mighty hug. Then he swiftly stepped away and smacked Legolas soundly on the back of the head. "You little fool! That was really one of the dumbest things you've ever done! What if someone _had _thrown their weapon at you? You would have been killed!"

"I wasn't going to do anything that bad!" Legolas protested, climbing back to his feet. "I just wanted to give you all a scare! It would have worked better if _some _elves had kept a straight face!"

The twins snickered, although, when they caught sight of Elrond's face their expressions quickly changed from glee to obvious regret.

"What's on your knife?" Thranduil asked resignedly.

"Berry juice. Really Ada, you ought to have caught on to that particular trick by now!"

Thranduil buried his face in his hands. "Apologize, Legolas. You frightened everyone, you owe them an apology."

"I frightened _you, _you mean." Legolas muttered, low enough only for his Ada to hear. Straightening, he spoke in a clear carrying voice. "My Adar is right. I am truly sorry for any fear or alarm that I have caused my people in the past minutes. As I have been told many times, it is time I grew up and stop causing so much trouble."

A titter swept through the 'audience', strengthening as, unbeknownst to their prince, Elrohir silently crept up and sprinkled flower petals in Legolas' hair.

"Again, I am sorry for the inconvenience. Now, as a peace offering, I think Ada mentioned a barrel of Lothlorien wine earlier."

A great cheer rose from the elves and much laughter followed.

"You're very good at that." Elladan remarked.

"I've had _years _of practice. Ada, I need to speak with you in private."

Thranduil followed his son off to the side, out of earshot. Quickly, Legolas told him of the tunnels beneath the palace, his and the twin's excursion, and the mysterious voice with orcs at it's control.

Needless to say, the king was not exactly in a believing mood. In less than five minutes Legolas had called the twins over for support, (not surprisingly, it didn't help much) given a word-for-word recount of the conversation he had overheard when he first ventured into the underground labyrinth, and in the end, he _still _had to drag his Ada back to the palace to prove it.

Much to his annoyance, the twins decided to come along too. They were enjoying Legolas' difficulty in getting the king to believe him. Elladan at one point had mentioned something about the elfling who cried 'orc' and had gotten a so sharp a response that his ears tingled.

Legolas' temper was fast approaching breaking point.

"Ada, look, you can't tell me you haven't ever wondered about these tapestries before. Have you ever just stared at one and seen a picture appear out of the swirls? No? Well, try it sometime, it's quite eerie. Now, look, when you pull the hanging aside, and press this little… where is it?"

The twins snapped to attention and ran their fingers wonderingly over the smooth stone wall. "Ada, I swear, it was right… here."

Legolas slumped in defeat. He highly doubted that his father would believe him now, especially being pulled away from the festivities and all. _Yes, there goes his face, turning that odd color of pink again… _

"Not funny, Legolas Thrandulion! Your actions tonight have been way out of line. You are lucky that I will allow you back down to the woods at all! Don't even think of talking back to me, it will only serve to further my displeasure of your behavior."

The king made to sweep from the room, then paused, looking thoughtful. "Oh yes, Valamas would like to see you tomorrow at nine sharp. He requests that you bring your weapons and a certain amount of alertness."

The king exited the room in haste, that barrel of wine from Lothlorien would need his 'approval', before it could be distributed. And the Lorien elves _did _make a good wine.

Legolas fell backwards onto his rumpled bed.

"I can't believe he didn't believe you! Actually, I don't blame him, but, still, this is very important and—and _how _could it have disappeared like that? Legolas?"

The prince was ignoring Elrohir's babbling, his hands covered his face in dismay.

"It's all right, we'll convince him later—"

"That's not it." Legolas' voice was hollow. "I do not wish to meet that heartless elf so early in the morning. It will completely spoil my day."

The twins exchanged confused glances. "Legolas, shouldn't the weapon's master be the least of your worries?"

"Absolutely not! He may be the best warrior in Mirkwood, but--. Never mind. Come, there is still much fun to be had. I believe I mentioned something about Lothlorien wine…"

"But Legolas, you shouldn't stay up _all _night, you're wanted at nine sharp!"

The prince paused, looked Elladan up and down. "If I did not know better, I'd say you are channeling my _naneth. _Stop it!" He turned and raced out of the room. His voice floated back, "Besides, perhaps I can claim forgetfulness. Over-consumption of good food and drink can do that, you know…"

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**AN: **I originally planned to make this chappy twice as long, but I believe I shall wait until I get rid of insomnia, which is the cause of the badly-written chappy you see here. I do apologize, I had planned for this to turn out somewhat different, but I think this is the best that can be done under such circumstances. I felt really guilty about not posting for so long so I sat and typed this up.

And by the way, I have no idea if Lothlorien wine really _is _as good as I make it out to be, it was the first thing that came to a very tired mind, so please go easy on me. Also, about the magicked clearing, I am just speculating on when this particular 'technology' came into play, I have no idea how it is truly crafted. Now, where's my hot cocoa….

**The authoress would like to thank: **(since I'm being all proper and such) ;-)

**Arialas: **Well, -scuffs foot- this hasn't been exactly often, has it… yes, most of the passageways are underneath the palace. There are several that extend a ways out into the forest though… ooops, no one's s'posed to know that yet. As for the orcs, it will all become clear…

**KerowynGreenleaf: **thanks, I liked that one too!

**A. NuEvil: **oh good, happy to hear it, yes it does sound better with the A. s'OK, I don't mind, although I thought I'd lost one of my reviewers for awhile… I really liked the last couple myself… oh yes, plenty of trouble.. –rubs hands gleefully-

**Romen: **Revenge is the sweeter thing of life… thanx!

**werewolflemming: **now I feel bad cuz I haven't done my oath justice… must work on that. Mad love for the crazy disclaimers. Lol, yes poor Legolas, and as for the stranger, that's a key part…

**The AmazingTechnoColoredRingwraith: **Did I get all the CAPS right? Lol, pro chefs indeed..

**darklink231: **here it is, tho not as fast as I wish it was… sigh

**Haldir's Heart and Soul: **Them? Mellow? As if! Lol, thanx!

**Elladan of Rivendell: **Thank you so much for the praise, ooo, better not get too dependent, as I'm not dependable… much…

**The Lauderdale: **Hoo boy, big order… I hadn't realized just how much _I _have to figure out… I hope I won't disappoint you! Aahh, _that's _what a quarrel is, I knew it was related with a bow somehow.. Thanks for the age tip, I will definitely keep that in mind as I like my stories to be as accurate as possible. As a matter of fact, if I weren't so deep into this particular line, I would go back and change it right now, but I will definitely use in other stories, thank you so much!

**Aranna Undomiel: **Oohh, I don't know, I'm a big fan of food fight's and such, you may actually get to see more of it. As a matter of fact, that's a very high possibility. Yes, dark, very unpleasant. –shudders-


	6. Who spit in his oatmeal?

**Disclaimer: **I'm out of songs. They ain't mine, although I'm working on a top secret plan to get Legolas and the twins.

**AN: **Goodness, this one took forever! My bad…

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"Wake up!" Elladan threw open the curtains cheerfully.

Legolas moaned and burrowed deeper into his blankets. "Go 'way."

Elrohir shook his head sympathetically. "I _told _you that was too much wine. Get up, you're going to be late."

The prince pulled his pillow over his ears muttering, "I'm _never _late."

Needless to say, the twins did not see the point in answering that ridiculous statement with an answer. Making an unspoken agreement, they sauntered across the room toward the door. "Shall we just tell Valamas that you'll be late then?"

What had seconds before been a groaning, half-asleep elf became a frantic whirl-wind of a being. The twins had to stifle their laughter as Legolas hopped up and down pulling on a boot, only to discover he had put it on the wrong foot.

Letting loose some creative curses, he sat down on the ground with a thud and fixed his wayward boot. Dashing for the closet he grabbed one of the first items he saw, a dark blue tunic with a frayed hem, perfect for working with weapons; it allowed a full range of movement, and was old enough that it did not matter if it was torn.

"What time is it?" he asked as he pulled the tunic over his head.

"Oh, 7:30."

Legolas stopped dead. "_What _did you say?" He fixed unfortunate Elrohir with a fiery, baleful gaze. A very pale tinge of pink spread across his face, a sure sign that very soon, something would be broken.

"Well," Elladan piped up cheerfully, grasping his twin and edging toward the door. "we'd best be going now. We've been offered a spot to watch the training classes today. Oh, and Legolas?"

"Yes, Elladan?"

"First of all, you should not grind your teeth like that, it's bad for them. Second, I'm only warning you of this once, and only because I don't want to see you in trouble, again. Never, trust Elrohir or myself when you want to know the time. Always look at a clock." The door swung shut behind the departing Noldor.

Legolas sat on his bed, working through this last statement. It took him a bit (since he was battling a rotten headache) but when it finally penetrated the fog, he leaped straight up and raced across the room to his window.

Craning his neck, he could just barely see the large sun dial in the center of the courtyard. As he stretched out, trying to see the time upside-down, he thought to himself, _I really need to ask Ada for a clock. _Let's see it was nine… _forty-five! _

Letting out a yelp of surprise, he leaped for the chair where he had thrown his weapons the night before. Daggers slipped into hidden sheaths, his bow and quiver were slung over his shoulder and his two knives went into the sheaths on his back.

Looking at his reflection in the mirror, he appraised his appearance carefully. Valamas liked his students to be well groomed, and no one had the courage to say other wise. Several minutes later, he flew out of his room, fingers nimbly finishing the last braid.

He was going to be late.

Maids and servants ducked into doorways and dived aside as he flew down the halls and out into the sun. The guards at the gate saw him coming and just barely managed to get the door open in time. A rushed "_Hannon le_," was barely heard before he disappeared into the forest.

Pushing himself to the greatest speed he could muster, the prince practically lifted off the ground, all the while swearing vengeance on the twins and his Ada. He would like to get Valamas, but he was too fearful of the consequences. _Now let's see… I could tamper with their food, that's always fun… or somehow combine water and flour… or steal their clothes… _Such were his thoughts as he skidded onto the wide field where other elves were already practicing with swords, scimitar, knives, and daggers.

Legolas heard very familiar laughter, and turning his head just so, could pick out the twins, seated on the edge of the field. Elrohir waved cheekily and Elladan just grinned.

He flashed them a very rude gesture and scanned the field for Valamas. A whistle behind him was the only warning he received as a scimitar flashed over his head.

Legolas' hands went to his knives, unsheathed them in the blink of an eye and spun to parry his attacker. The elf was nearly driven to the ground by the force of the blow. He knocked the scimitar to the side in a desperate sweep and rolled backwards out of range.

His attacker, another blonde elf with a calm, completely blank face dove forward, blade raised, and sliced downward with almost unnatural strength. Legolas continued his roll and sprang to his feet; knives ready to block the scimitar's upswing.

The nameless blonde elf swung his weapon up and brought it around in an arc. Legolas knocked the blade to the side and danced backwards, knowing that this particular elf was too strong to parry with.

Other action on the field stopped as the elves turned to watch the battle. It went on for a good two minutes before one of the combatants missed a block due to his quick glance behind and up.

In an instant, Legolas was on the ground, tip of scimitar at his throat. He dropped his knives and said, "Well, how did I do? Weapon's master?"

Valamas let the prince up, sheathing his scimitar to cheers from the other elves. "On a scale of one to ten, six."

"Six?" The forced smile on Legolas' face disappeared.

"Yes. Minus one point for foolishly leaving an opening, minus another point for taking your attention away from the battle, minus the third for the roll at the very beginning, I could have taken your head off if you had knocked my blade away with even slightly less force. And minus the last because of your annoying habit of bringing both blades to one side, when I have expressly told you _not _to do so! Go and sit by your wide-eyed friends, I'll come deal with you in a moment."

The weapon's master stalked off, leaving an exasperated prince standing there with blades itching to dig into _something. _Sheathing them in annoyance, he walked over to the twins, and hoisted himself into the tree above their heads.

"He's not very… pleasant, is he?" Elrohir inquired after watching Valamas roughly correct a young elf's hold on his bow.

Legolas could not hide a smile. "Actually, that was quite pleasant. I think he is in a good mood today."

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Valamas stalked back over to the waiting friends, noting with some satisfaction the severely annoyed look on his prince's face. "Well? What do have to say for yourself, elfling?"

Legolas stood holding the weapon's master's eyes coolly. "First of all, I am _not _an elfling any longer. I have been of age for fifty-two years, and a warrior for two of them. Secondly, I only glanced away to help gain a certain advantage. Thirdly, you are a complete—"

Elrohir leaped to his feet and clamped a hand over Legolas' mouth before the prince could end up diced in a dozen pieces.

The blond-haired elf twisted out of Elrohir's grip with surprising strength. His mouth under his control again (barely), he folded his arms and glared, unknowingly looking more like his father in a rage than he knew.

"That's right. Next time, keep your mouth shut. Now, while we are on the subject, I _will _call you an elfling whenever I like, seeing as you _are _small enough, and you certainly still act like one. Get your blades. I am going to teach you once and for all not to bring both blades to one side."

The twins stared open-mouthed as their friend's jaw worked, but no sound came out. His pale face tinged a slight pink as his anger level rose. Slender hands clenched and unclenched at his side.

Drawing his knives, Legolas stalked forward gracefully, looking every inch a dangerous opponent who had nothing more on his mind than beating a certain arrogant elf.

The clang of metal rang out across the field, and Elrohir sat back down next to his brother and exchanged a _what was _that _about _kind of look.

Several seconds later, another elf stopped and took a seat next to the twins. "_Mae govannen, _sons of Elrond. I am Nethidal, son of Kalir. I thought maybe you could help me out."

"With what?"

"I have a score to settle with dear Prince Legolas. I heard that you two are friends with the rotten being." The elf gave a cocky smile and added, "Although, I _am _surprised that there are two other elves that can put up with him."

The twins exchanged a second glance, this one more cautious. "What kind of score?" If this elf was plotting some attack, Elladan wanted no part of it.

"See, before I left on patrol six days ago, I discovered that some mysterious being had rigged my room with a large amount of paste, confetti and also managed to switch all my furniture around.

"So, by the time I got out of the room, I was extremely multi-colored and nursing a large bruise on my already-hurt rear end. I am still picking off bits of pink and purple confetti. That elf and his horse will be the death of me yet. I want to get him back."

Oh. _That _kind of score. The twins grinned, a sight that sent even the most hardened warrior of Imladris running for cover. "Deal."

A grunt of surprise pulled the new comrades' attention back to the fight. Legolas had blocked a particularly hard blow, something Valamas had not expected, and the seasoned master had to quickly skip back in order to avoid being slapped in the side by a knife.

Easily gaining control over the situation, Valamas slipped comfortably back into a defensive rhythm, biding his time.

Nethidal let out a sigh. The look on the Prince's face told him all too well what had happened. "They're at it _again_?"

Elladan looked over. "Again? Does this happen often? And while we're at it, _who _spit in the weapon master's oatmeal?"

"Not too often lately. I'll give you the whole story later, if he doesn't tell you first. Legolas has never beaten that elf, as a matter of fact, I don't think _anyone_ has. Everyone is always secretly rooting for someone (else, preferably) to take on Valamas and win. It hasn't happened yet. Hey, where does he think _he's _going?"

Legolas had suddenly spun on his heel and darted for the forest. Valamas was right behind him. Racing straight at a tree, Legolas literally ran several feet up the trunk and leaped for a branch.

Using the young tree's springiness, the prince bent and catapulted back onto the field, throwing Valamas off balance as he too tried to leap. The weapons master's balance was supreme though, and in seconds he was after his quarry.

His quarry, on the other hand, was not to be scared off. Blades clashed again and again, until Valamas ended the match with a brilliant offensive attack ending with his foot against the back of Legolas' knee, forcing the prince to fall heavily to the ground.

"Better."

The weapon's master sauntered away, making it clear that the lesson was over.

Legolas rolled to his feet and, rolling his eyes, made his way back to his friends. "I almost had him! Almost!"

Nethidal laughed. "_Mellon nin, _you say that every time. And how long exactly have you been trying? Fifty years, maybe more?"

"Shut your overly large mouth, Nethidal, or I shall tell Ada 'twas you who dropped the dropped the milk on his head from the balcony." Said elf grumbled but subsided. "How was the patrol?"

"Oh, it would have been much better if everyone had stopped pointing out how ridiculous I looked with blue and purple confetti pasted on my face."

"Who would do a thing like that?"

"I wonder."

Abruptly the two stopped talking and got very tense. Legolas whipped his bow off his back and had an arrow fitted in the blink of an eye.

_Now what? _Were the identical thoughts of two very confused and newly alerted elves.

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**AN: **HEY YA'LL! I'm baaack! Finally. Rotten me. I hate to say it, but updates may become even more erractic, seeing as volleyball just started and practice is four and a half hours—every day. (Except Sunday) My legs will never be the same. Actually, that will give me an excuse to sit in front of the computer more… maybe updates will be more often… it could go either way. Send a prayer to the Valar in hopes that by the end of the season my legs will not be ground down. Oh and btw, are my chappies long enough? If you want tell me in a review and i'll make them longer.

**Author thanks:**

**Romen: **Yes indeed he does. More on the way too…

**NuEvil: **I know, Legolas is so mean! But he's _so _fun to write! Flower petals, mother hen, I love the twins too!

**Aurehen: **Free commercial, that's right! I figured you weren't getting the attention you need. Oops, that kinda makes you sound like a puppy huh? Can't wait for your next update!

**Arialas: **Yay, that's great to hear! Makes me so happy! Actually, yes, procrastination is a huge flaw of mine, it really stinks doesn't it?

**Haldir's Heart and Soul: **Ya, ouch! Scary… I thought about doing it, but that would have interrupted my line of coming chappys.

**Illeanah: **Thanx!

'**Maze: **You're right, this is much easier.

**Aranna Undomiel: **Heh heh, my favorite part too… They're gonna wish they _had _listened to him!


	7. But they're sooo cute!

**Disclaimer: **Legolas and twins… not mine. Thranduil and Mirkwood… not mine. Elrond… not mine. Yeesh, this is depressing….

**AN: **I'm sooooo sorry that this took so long, it was written in 15 minutes snatches over the past few weeks… Hopefully this is satisfactory…

Apparently review responses are banned from now, several people have been kicked off… scary. So I will list all of you wonderful people at the bottom, but I won't do individual responses. If someone asks a question that I think everyone should know the answer to, (even if you didn't ask) I will answer to that person. If you want me to reply to your reviews by e-mail, let me know in a review and I will certainly do so…

Anything to keep you awesome people happy!

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"What's wrong?" Elladan finally asked in a whisper as the moments dragged on without a movement on the part of the battle ready elves.

"Listen!" Nethidal whispered. His voice was soft, hesitant, almost as if the elf was battling just to say that one word.

The twins tensed their ears and finally the strains of song came to them. The melody rose and fell like the wind, and it twisted deep into their subconscious and settled there.

The four stood there for what seemed like hours, listening to the strange tune. In reality, it was less than thirty seconds. The melody was cut off with a sharp screech that tingled in their ears.

Shaking his head as though he had been doused with water, Legolas let his bow slip from his grasp. The twins similarly shook themselves to alertness, but Nethidal continued to stare into space disconcertingly.

Elrohir shook the elder elf's shoulder gently. "Nethidal? Are you all right?"

Legolas passed his hand over Nethidal's eyes and his friend shook his head and smiled weakly.

"It's all right, I just thought I recognized it. But I suppose not."

The prince's piercing blue eyes weren't deceived though, and Nethidal knew he would have to explain himself to Legolas later.

The uncomfortable silence was broken by the twins, who had apparently swallowed his story.

"Hey Legolas, we've heard you're pretty good with a bow. Want to show us?"

A smile grew on the prince's face. Archery was the one thing where Valamas could not correct him. "Aye, I could do that."

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Legolas nocked an arrow and drew the string back. His eyes watched the target almost as if he expected it to move, much to the twin's amusement. Their snickers attracted his attention and he whirled, loosing the arrow as he did so.

The weapon shot between the four inches separating the two and embedded itself in the target behind them. Directly in the center.

The twins sprang apart as if kicked and stared incredulously at the quivering shaft, then at the prince who simply turned his attention back to the original target, eyes narrowed in concentration. Except now the Imladris elves knew their friend didn't need to concentrate so hard.

"Show off." Nethidal remarked from up in his tree.

Legolas allowed himself a slight grin. He _had _wanted to give his new friends a shock. And he didn't think this way of frightening them would make them want to cover him in food.

After all, gooey pie filling was _hard _to get out of hair.

Reaching into his quiver, he drew out two arrows and set them to the string. Elrohir asked sarcastically, "You're not planning on shooting apples off of our heads are you?"

Legolas shook his head and laughed. "I suppose I _could, _one at a time of course. But not at once, I'm not very good at this yet. I've only been practicing with two for a couple of weeks."

His nimble fingers easily held the shafts, but the problem was getting them where he wanted them to go. And he wanted them to go straight. This was the problem. The arrows would shoot off, and then ever so slightly veer off to the side. The result was hitting the outside ring of the target.

For Legolas, who normally had no trouble with archery, this was a welcome challenge. He was so intense on realigning his fingers and fussing with the way he held the arrows, he had absolutely no idea that the twins had joined Nethidal and were happily plotting away.

The elder elf was visibly ecstatic to get the twins of Imladris on his side. Elladan, (at least, he thought it was Elladan) would start with an idea, and the Elrohir would leap in and evolve it a bit further, and then they would switch. It was amazing to watch them play off one another, concocting a scheme that would no doubt excel.

And that was just the first one. They discarded it as being too nice.

Several pranks later, they were interrupted by a shout from Legolas. The blonde elf had been in the process of retrieving his arrows once more when he noticed movement near the edge of the woods. Straining his eyes, he managed to spot several low, furry shapes scurrying around the trees. Whatever they were, (and he had a pretty good idea) they were definitely not elves.

Turning, he sprinted toward his friends calling out for Nethidal. His pursuers were faster though, and he knew there was no way he would make it to safety. He darted left and right, hoping to gain some ground, but the animals leaped and brought him down. The last thing he saw before the creature opened its mouth was Nethidal laughing.

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"Eeeyuch!" Legolas pushed the puppy away from his face and wiped his mouth. "Slimy!"

Elrohir cautiously approached the downed elf. "Legolas? Are you… all right?"

Nethidal passed him and picked up one of the wriggling pups. It yipped and tried to lick his nose. "I was wondering when they were going to appear, _mellon-nin. _Your Ada won't be very happy about this."

The twins came forward then, and sat on the grass beside the Mirkwood elves. "Honestly!" Elladan exclaimed. "We thought from the look on your face that you were being chased by a-a Balrog or something!"

Legolas groaned. The puppies (all six of them) turned their heads and leaped. The wood-elf disappeared under a pile of tongues, soft brown coats, and madly wagging tails. The resulting strained laughter told his friends that the prince was being unmercifully tickled.

Nethidal rescued his friend after several minutes went by. Holding two of them, he explained to the twins exactly why his prince was sitting there sulking.

"Legolas was rushing to get to the training field about 9 weeks ago (late as usual) and off to one side of the trail, he heard whimpering and whining. Curious, and always eager to annoy Valamas, he turned off the trail and started to search.

"About forty ells from the trail, he found six puppies huddled beside their mother, who had been killed by a spider. Now, at first, his instincts were to race back to the palace and warn his father about spiders so close to the palace and training areas, leaving the puppies there. After all, he despises dogs.

"He hadn't gone more than five steps when a particularly loud whine turned his head. One of the puppies had sensed his presence, and being too young to walk or see, had made its loud and vocal objection to being left.

"Now, as I've already said, Legolas loathes dogs. Ever since a bunch of them attacked him when he was young (er), he has given them a wide berth. Never mind that the dogs that attacked him were half-mad from a disease, and the rest of the dogs are perfectly harmless."

Elladan snickered.

"So when I came along to see where he had gotten to, wasn't I surprised to see my prince kneeling in the dirt, wrapping a bunch of pitiful, dirty pups in his fine cloak, muttering about filthy mongrels."

Elrohir's laugh joined his brother's.

"All the way back to the palace he grumbled. Got rather annoying to tell the truth. Kept going on about leaving them to die like he should have, and how he prefers horses anyway.

"And he kept grumbling, all through the night as he gave them a bath, about how he was never going to get the stench out of his cloak. As he fed them milk with a bottle, he moaned about the fur clogging his bath drain. And as he let _them _sleep in _his _bed, while _he _took a chair.

"The next morning, I came to remind him that it was his turn to go out on patrol. He was curled up in his chair and the smallest was in his arms. He cracked open an eye and said dryly, 'I _really _dislike puppies.'"

The twins had identical smirks on their faces as they watched Legolas, who had given up trying to keep the pups off and simply lay in the grass with his arms over his head.

Nethidal grinned and sat down, clapping his hands. The pups yipped and raced over, climbing into his lap, pulling at his hair, and nipping his fingers gently. Legolas sat in the dust, arms folded.

"And they've been following me ever since! I _never _know when they're going to pop up; whether it's in my room in the middle of the night, breakfast, lunch, dinner, Ada's study, my bathtub, or in the middle of practice."

"The guards think it's wonderful, of course," Nethidal put in devilishly. "It's how the pups manage to sneak in past the gate every once in awhile. So by now, whenever we hear a yell from the prince's quarters in the middle of the night, we know it's just Legolas being rudely awakened by a cold puppy nose."

Elrohir bent down and picked up a small black one. "Oh, but Legolas, they're so cute!"

"Don't forget," Nethidal reminded, "he doesn't like dogs." A pause. "But that _still _doesn't explain why he's named them."

Legolas rose to his feet, careful not to step on any wagging tails. "How else am I supposed to reprimand them properly for tearing up Ada's robes? I can't just point and say, '_bad _little brown one who looks kind of like the other brown one!'"

Elladan exchanged a knowing glance with his twin. Somehow it didn't surprise him. What an actor!

The prince shooed the pups away from his feet, and moved toward the twins, giving each a whack on the head. "Oh, hush! I'm going to go check on Mordax."

The three remaining elves doubled over in laughter as they watched him weave his way through his furry entourage, making more ground from side to side than forwards.

When he had finally disappeared, the Wood-elf and the Imladris twins went back to their scheming. Nethidal was about to get the prince back for more than 5 years of pranks.

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Legolas finally tired of watching his feet constantly; it seemed to make an awful lot of trees appear right where his head was going. After nearly breaking his nose after avoiding Maegrive, he sprang into the trees and continued along the path of branches.

The puppies, undeterred, followed along the ground, occasionally glancing upwards to make sure they were still close to their buddy.

Their buddy rolled his eyes in expraseration. These puppies _were _kind of cute, he had to admit Elrohir was right, but honestly! They were the main cause of all the reasons he had gotten in trouble lately. Well, _most _of the reasons.

_But… _what about the time he had set a trap for Nethidal and Nidhelv had sprung out of nowhere, causing Legolas to trip and the mud to spill all over himself? Needless to say, this only heightened Nethidal's affection to the pups.

Suddenly all thought flew from his mind except survival. The pups had suddenly disappeared, and the trees warned of danger, why hadn't he heard them before? They were practically shouting for him to turn and run the other way.

After all, it is hardly wise to wander into a spider nest…

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**AN: **Sorry, short, but I'm soooo rushed for time! How did you like the puppies?

**Maegrive: **means piercing bark.

**Nidhelv: **means wet fur.

Thanks so much:

Werewolflemming, ceriadara, KerowynGreenleaf, Arialas, theo darkstar, luna, Haldir's Heart and Soul, Aurehen, Alenor Peredhil, amani alye, Galimeril, Aranna Undomiel, silverkonekotsukari, Illeanah.

**I love all you guys and wish I was brave enough to answer you all in person. I hope all you new people will come back for more!**


	8. Scary! oo

**Disclaimer: **Hey ya'll! As much as I hate to admit it, they're not mine. (Boy what a way to kill the holiday spirit)

**AN: **Hey people, sorry for the long wait! I'm considering putting one of these longer stories on temporary hiatus until I finish with one or the other. I don't think I will though, I enjoy both of them too much to stop one of them. I'm going to go back and change some of the ages of the elves. A couple of people have told me the correct elven aging calculations, so I will go and change them. (I must have everything as correct as possible, but only because I don't want to defile Tolkien's lovely world with my muddling.)

Lol, I'm happy you all like the puppies and their relationship with their 'buddy', lol! I'm sorry (not really) about the cliffhanger, and I hope this makes up for me being so rotten. Although you may want to kill me again by the end of the chappy. hides from angry readers throwing Thanksgiving leftovers Oh yes, and to all my fellow Americans, HAPPY THANKSGIVING! This is my present to you. Okay, enough rambling. Go read the chappy.

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"Oh dear," Legolas muttered nervously. He gazed around with morbid fascination, completely unable to make any move to flee. Never in his life had he been inside a spider nest, although now that he saw it, he had no doubt as to what it was.

The spiders were crawling above his head, hissing hungrily. They had hoped this prey would stumble into their midst. They had heard his muffled groan of frustration as he discovered puppy drool on his tunic, and swiftly prepared to entrap this tasty morsel. They did not often get to feast on elf-flesh, the fair beings usually too alert to have stumbled into their lair.

Half in a daze that he would remember later as a terror induced state; Legolas wondered what the spiders were doing so close to the elven homes. The patrols would surely have discovered this group long ago.

The prince did not know that these spiders were very new to the forest, at least this part of it. They had come north from the woods near Dol Gulder, answering a call for allies. They had quickly abandoned their nesting place and scurried north, each day settling closer and closer to the palace. The day before, they had eluded the patrol and settled in this spot. And look what had wandered so willingly into their new settlement! Dinner!

However, their dinner had other ideas. And that's when the spiders rediscovered the difficulties of entrapping elves.

Legolas mentally slapped himself on each cheek. His conscious mind may have been terrified, but instinct took over and suddenly he was in motion. His bow appeared in his hands as if by magic, and firing quickly, had soon dispatched several spiders.

His hand reached back automatically to his quiver, and finding only two arrows left, decided to save them just in case. He slung the bow across his shoulder and whipped out his knives, their blades shining wickedly.

A small sense told him that, if present, the weapon's master would be tearing into him like a dog into a steak. He could hear the rant now… "You fool, you _never _walk the forest without staying alert! You deserve to be here, you deserve to be killed!" The angry voice dissipated, though Legolas could still imagine the elf's voice echoing on the air.

Turning, he began to slice at the web relentlessly, using short, energy-conserving strokes. His efforts were in vain, as the web was too thick and sticky, rendering his blades near-to-useless. Instinct spun him around, barely in time to see a spider launch itself from a tree branch, stinger extended. His knives quickly became dark with blood. The spider rolled away, convulsing violently and uttering choked shrieks of pain.

Hesitating only slightly, Legolas raised his own voice, calling the alert, warning the other elves to be wary. Hopefully, he would be heard. Also, he desperately needed help. He simply could not fight an entire spider nest by himself.

The risk was high though: perhaps more spiders would hear his calls and come scuttling for a share of elf flesh. And there was the all-too-likely possibility that the elves would not hear him. The very thought made him shudder.

Another spider approached, although it did not drop from the trees as it's comrade had done. It came along the ground, skittering here and there, testing its opponent's quickness.

Legolas followed the movements near to perfectly, showing the spider, for all its devious speed, the elf would not be easily fooled. It came ahead anyway, feinting left, right, and back.

Suddenly it leaped forward and was rewarded with a loss of a leg. It gurgled angrily and hissed, limping back. It did not want to mess with this elf.

Legolas took the opportunity to try again at the webs. Panic was beginning to rise in his chest; he did not like this sneak attack method. At least with the orcs, they usually attacked in the open and all at once. They did not ever learn from their mistakes, and it was rare to see a group working with stealth and cunning. The spiders, on the other hand, were more intelligent, and the elf was beginning to see how desperate his situation truly was.

Legolas clamped down on his rising fear and turned, forcing himself to stop his fruitless hacking at the unyielding webs. He would have to find another way. He looked all around the clearing, searching for some means of escape.

There!

Almost directly ahead of him, but a little to the right was a gap. The spiders had missed two trees, thinking the space between them too small for even an elf to escape. They were wrong.

The leader of the spiders followed the elf's gaze and hissed an order for the space to be blocked, just as Legolas made his bid for survival.

Running faster than he ever had before, he darted across the clearing, slashing at the legs of any spider that ventured near. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the two spiders that scuttled to do their masters bidding, and tried to urge himself to even greater speed.

The spiders hissed and began to drop their sticky web just as the elf threw himself through the gap in desperation.

For a single terrifying second, he thought himself stuck, and wrenched himself forward. The bark scraped cruelly along his hands and shoulders, but he collapsed outside the ring of trees more or less unharmed.

Legolas felt another surge of fear as he saw a mammoth spider, larger than any he had seen inside the circle, approach the spot where he lay, winded. It rasped out a sound that raised the hairs along the prince's arms.

He scrambled to his feet and reached for his bow, intending to shoot the foul creature before it could come nearer. His grasping fingers felt only air. He looked behind him, confused for a second, before realizing what must have happened. As quickly as he dared, he spun all the way around, looking into the gap he had just fell through.

Yes, there, caught underneath the webs, was his bow. It had been wrenched from his back as he dived through, and he mentally cursed himself. The gap had been big enough for an elf, yes, but not big enough for an elf with a bow strapped to his back.

His quiver and the two remaining arrows lay just outside the webs. They were of no more use to him now. He would have to fight the creature hand to hand.

His Ada's words came floating back. _"Why knives, ion-nin? You know how to use scimitars and swords, why knives? They require you to come into much closer contact with your victim. One day, you'll see the sense of it. Most likely when it's crucial."_

"Well, Ada," Legolas murmured under his breath, eyeing the spider as it came ever closer, "This is one of the times I really wish you were wrong."

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Nethidal paused his plotting and turned toward the forest. The trees cried out for his attention. He stepped closer and set his hand against a particularly agitated oak.

_Mellon-nin, what is the matter?_

_Young one, you must hurry! Gather your weapons and go to your friend's aid. He is in dire need of your help!_

The oak broke its mind thought, and Nethidal heard a faint call for help. There was no doubt that it was his friend's voice, and he was in trouble. Nethidal quickly decided to heed the old tree's words, and slung his bow over his back.

"I must go," he said to the twins, who were looking up at him in confusion. "There is trouble in the woods." He slipped his sword into its sheath and said grimly, "Young _tithen-las _is in trouble again."

Something about the elder elf's voice told the twins that this sort of thing happened often.

"Say, Nethidal," Elladan ventured as the elf started away, "How much older are you than 'little-leaf'?"

Nethidal broke into a quick jog. "Not very much," he called back. "Only three hundred years or so."

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_Oh no, ohno ohno! _

Such were the thought of Legolas, staring in horror as the huge spider jabbed a couple of hairy legs in his direction. Neither was extended long enough to make contact, and Legolas wisely stood where he was, not bothering to waste the energy to dodge the ineffective pokes.

The spider, angry at its unsuccessful jabs, suddenly skittered forward. Legolas dropped low and darted out of the way, keeping his face to the spider at all times. He wasn't going to let this hairy beast get the best of him!

The spider slid to a stop and took to the trees, firing shots of web at its foe from the relative safety of the trees,

The trees, however, were extremely unhappy that their beloved prince was in so much danger, and shook their branches roughly. The spider's weight on too-thin limbs combined with the shaking of the trees caused the little branches to crack, sending the spider tumbling to the ground.

Legolas had seen cats falling, and had marveled at their ability to land on their feet. They twisted their agile bodies and landed lightly, much like an elf, when one stopped to think about it.

The spider had none of a cat's talents. It landed with a thud that shook the ground, on it's back, legs waving. It had no chance to defend itself as Legolas darted in and sank a knife into it's side.

It squealed and righted itself, legs reaching out, trying to score a hit on the elf's side as he skipped away, unharmed.

The elf's nimbleness angered the spider; hissing, it ordered two of his underlings to go forth and attack the elf from the side, leaving it free to come and finish off this tasty morsel.

Legolas suddenly found his escape cut off by two webs appearing out of nowhere. He looked up, just as the two spiders leaped down.

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Nethidal raced through the trees, his worry increasing every second. Where _was _Legolas? He should have come upon the prince minutes ago!

A sudden elven shout of surprise and fear brought Nethidal's head around so fast his neck hurt.

He plunged through the trees, intent on helping his friend,

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The prince brought his knives up and about in a high arc, slicing off a leg on one and neatly blinding the other. The spider that was missing a leg reared up, intending to fall on it's prey and stinging it with it's poison.

A bow sang, and an arrow lodged itself in the spider's back. Shrieking, it convulsed once, and a leg struck Legolas in the chest, causing him to drop a knife and sending him tumbling back, dangerously close to the webs.

An elven war chant sounded, and Legolas smiled in relief. Nethidal had arrived. Everything would be all right. He climbed to his feet and started for his dropped weapon.

Something hit him from behind and he fell forward, over the knife and into a tree. His hope upon seeing his friend disappeared as a pained shout from Nethidal told him that more spiders had arrived, conquering their fear in the hope of gaining two elves for dinner.

And the large spider was advancing, leg out for another bruising blow. Legolas knew what he had to do, but fear made him pause. What if it didn't work? He would be responsible for Nethidal's death and then he would die himself.

The prince glanced to the side. He saw his bow and two arrows, still trapped in the webs. Another cry from Nethidal hardened his resolve. He threw his remaining knife and rolled to the side and his feet, hand out to pull his bow free.

The spider hadn't anticipated Legolas's desperate throw, and the weapon blasted through it's pitiful defenses and lodged in an eye, the tip piercing its brain. It died instantly, legs still reaching for its much-hoped-for dinner.

Legolas tugged his bow free with a mighty heave and reached for his arrows. He turned and readied his bow. Nethidal was vastly overwhelmed. One of his arms hung limp and he was moving slowly, his sword moving as though through water. Many spiders lay dead at his feet, but at one point, they had slipped past his defenses, stinging him with their poison and battering his arm until it broke from the strain.

Two surrounded him now, and the normally-agile warrior would have had no trouble dispatching the creatures if he had been fully healthy. But he was out-matched now. Even as the prince watched in horror, they rose in tandem and started towed the injured warrior.

There would be no time for two shots, even for an elf. It would have to be done at once.

Time seemed to slow down as Legolas's trembling fingers notched the two remaining arrows. His mind was a whirl of self-doubt. If he missed, even by a fraction, he would hit Nethidal. Or the arrows would skid off, leaving the spiders unharmed and able to continue their attack.

He aimed carefully, pulse pounding in his ears. There was no time for any more hesitating. His friend's life hung in the balance of two arrows, shot by a shaky, nervous, elf-prince with almost no experience with a double shot.

Holding his breath, Legolas made the tiniest adjustment… and loosed his arrow.

**Dun dun dun dunnn! Lol, thanks everyone who reviewed, again I'm sorry I'm not brave enough to answer you all in person!** _Mcross, Haldir's Heart and Sou, silverkonekotsukari, Elladan of Rivendell, Arialas, Illeanah, Alenor Peredhil, A. NuEvil, KerowynGreenleaf, P.L.Wynter, theodarkstar, Aurehen._


	9. poor guilty princelings

**Disclaimer: **NOOOOO! NEVER! (shrieks madly and hurls Christmas ornaments at police, who are trying to arrest) THEY'RE MINE! MINE I TELL YOU! (tries to run and is caught, dragged kicking and screaming to jail, and sent to rehab) I swear it, on the Silmarillion, that, though they may not be mine as of yet, I shall get my hands on them one day, and turn Middle Earth into my playtoy! (insert evil laugh here)

**AN: **YYEEESSS! Winter break is here at last! Which means Christmas is coming. Which also means, I have more time to write. I'll really try to get another chappy up by X-mas, but no solid promises! After the duck episode, I try to avoid promises. They just don't work out.

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In the single instant that his arrows were shooting through the air, Legolas knew something had gone wrong. Whether it was a misplacement of his fingers, the wrong force with the wrong angle, or just plain bad luck, he didn't know. All he knew, was something was wrong, and it was all his fault.

He fought the urge to close his eyes, and instead watched in horror as his arrows continued their paths. One burrowed into a spider eye and through to the brain, but the other flashed across Nethidal's side before sinking into spider flesh.

The creature squealed in agony and turned from its intended victim. Legolas, still terrified about what he had done to Nethidal, fumbled in his boot for his dagger and finished off the spider.

Dropping his bow, the elf-prince dashed forward and dropped to his knees before his long time friend. "Nethidal! _Mellon-nin, _please answer me!" The elder elf did not reply, his eyes clouded in unconsciousness. "No! No no no! Nethidal, you wake up! P-please!" His voice broke before he could catch it.

Quickly, Legolas ripped open his friend's green tunic, examining the wound created by his arrow. It was an ugly one indeed, so deep as to have laid bare a rib and bleeding profusely.

Immediately, his hands went to his own tunic, tearing the cloth and binding it tightly to Nethidal's side. He was no healer, and he cursed his ignorance now. The only other thing he knew how to handle was the broken left arm, and even that knowledge was sketchy. He splinted it, but was stopped in the matter of the poison.

Legolas knew that his friend desperately needed help, but he also knew that he couldn't safely move his friend by himself. Nethidal was larger than him, though not by much, and again Legolas cursed himself, this time for being so small for his age. Nor could the prince leave him and go for help, they were much too close to the spider nest, and although many had been killed, he was sure that there were still more.

So instead, he sat and leaned against a tree, heedless of his sore, bleeding shoulders, and eased Nethidal closer, so he could give his friend his support. He would wait.

It did not take long. The twins had been alarmed at Nethidal's sudden grimness, and had spread the word. Elves immediately spread out, and began their search. Elladan and Elrohir, much to their disgust, had been sent back to the palace, where Elrond had to personally restrain them from running back to the forest.

Six elves came upon the pair twenty minutes later. Legolas had again begun to try and wake his friend, though it was useless, Nethidal remained unconscious. He paid no attention to his still-bleeding hands and shoulders, he was sure that Nethidal's pain, when he woke, would be much greater.

The elves found them there on the ground, both bloody. They lost no time in checking Nethidal over, and found that, with the combined efforts, they could indeed move him.

One went and kneeled beside his prince, hands steadily making sure that he was unhurt. Back in the safe company of his kind, Legolas began to shake uncontrollably, his frame shaking under the comforting hands.

"I-I-I…"

The elf gently hushed him. "It will be all right. He will live." The elf, known as Acin, spoke as soothingly as he could, knowing that his prince's condition was brought on by the after shock of what must have been a terrifying battle.

Legolas stiffened at these words, and tried to speak again, but all Acin could understand was something about arrows. He paid no heed to the puzzle, sure of learning more later. Stretching out his arm, Acin pulled his Legolas to his feet. Legolas paused for the brief second, looking back over his shoulder.

"B-but my bow and knives…"

"We'll bring them back for you, don't worry. But we must get Nethidal back to the caves quickly."

The mention of Nethidal's name had a remarkable effect on Legolas; he straightened, took several deep breaths to control his shaking. Several seconds passed, and the blonde elf was back under control, though still a little shaky.

Acin's respect for his young prince heightened; twas not often that a youngling could regain his composure so quickly. He steadied his prince, and off they went, careful to stay within sight of the others.

The trees passed by quickly, and they reached the cave palace in record time. Nethidal was immediately whisked away to the healing quarters, and Legolas was met in the hallway by a surprised and instantly worried Thranduil. He noticed the blood on his son's hands and shoulders directly, and had him in a healing room faster that a hobbit could say 'second breakfast'.

Seeing his ada, Legolas felt his composure fly. He struggled to hold onto it and managed to succeed for the most part, though he knew that if he tried to speak, he would end up babbling like a fool. And so he kept a calm, silent composure as his hands and shoulders were bandaged.

Thranduil did not press, sensing that, for the moment, asking would do no good. Instead he waited, looking at his son, nimble hands now wrapped in heavy bandages, along with the lacerations on his shoulders. Before, Legolas would have been wriggling, demanding to know if this was really necessary. But now he was still, staring ahead, not making a sound.

Thranduil was reminded viciously of the night before; Legolas's dreadful impression of the _Delu Laith. _But this time, it wasn't a joke, something really had happened. Prudently realizing that Nethidal had probably been a part of this, he escorted his son to the room where the elder elf was being tended. The room was crowded: with Elrond, two other healers, the twins and Acin, there wasn't really much room to move. Not to mention the six puppies huddled in a corner.

All parted in silence as the king and prince approached. Legolas walked up to the bed and sat on the corner, fingertips running absently over the pattern of the cloth. His friend looked awful, arm wrapped in a bright white bandage, bare torso also wrapped, though those bandages already showed signs of blood seeping through the layers.

Legolas winced visibly at the sight. His ada noted this, worry shining through his calm visage. The prince looked up at Elrond. He said nothing, letting his eyes speak for him: _will he live? _

Elrond nodded hesitantly. "I believe he will. The poison may give us some trouble, but I think he will be all right."

Legolas dropped his gaze. A small sound escaped him. Everyone watched his struggle, knowing that the next words would be important, revealing what had actually happened in the forest.

"My… fault."

An assortment of disbelieving noises rose from the throats of everyone present.

Legolas glanced up at last, blue eyes bright with guilt. "Twas… I walked… Nethidal… arrows… the spiders—"

He was fast losing his self-control, but he clamped down hard on his emotions, and managed to tell of the experience in the woods, with only several misunderstandings and a couple of thoughts spoken out loud that weren't meant to be.

He finished, eyes down, sure that everyone would despise him for acting so rashly. "…I acted too late, and I should have kept my eyes upon the trail… It is my fault that Nethidal is so injured. My arrow that…"

His voice trailed away to nothing, knowing that to speak anymore would mean total and complete loss of composure.

A heavy silence followed these words. Thranduil was the first to speak. "_Ion-nin, _I do not believe this episode was, in its entirety, your fault."

Legolas did not answer, partly because he did not trust himself, and partly because, since he was the king's son after all, he believed it was just Thranduil saying it to be fatherly.

Next, Elrond took his turn. "You may have wandered off the path, but Acin and Thranduil tell me that spiders had no business being there in the first place."

Again the young elf didn't speak, but his entire being radiated a feel of _but if I had been paying attention…_

The elves sighed. The two Mirkwood healers had left, confident of Elrond's ability, and needing to spread the word of what had truly transpired in the woods. That still left five in the room, not including Legolas or Nethidal. And somehow, they were going to have to convince the prince it was not his fault.

Mostly.

Acin tried next. "Prince Legolas, that shot was a double, you said?" A tiny nod. "I wish I had been there to see it. I know few elves that have ever been so brave as to try it in a battle at that angle."

Legolas glanced up, a flicker of short-lived pride showed itself briefly before disappearing again, and the prince's gaze shifted to his friend's side pointedly.

"Aye, it did skim Nethidal, but it did not skewer him, nor did it miss the second spider. Indeed, you saved his life by causing that spider to back away when you did. If you had missed, your friend would be dead."

A sigh, but a small spark had returned to Legolas's eyes. It was a start.

And then the twins came in with their opinions. They bounded over from their chairs and sat, one on each side of the blonde prince.

"Now, the way we see it is this: you did wander off the path and into a spider nest, but so what? We will probably do the same thing one of these days." Elrohir swatted his brother playfully.

"_He _will, at any rate. I am much too observant to be caught in such a manner." The younger twin continued, valiantly ignoring the barely concealed snickers from his father and Elladan. "You did your best to get out of the situation yourself, although you did freeze at the beginning, who cares about that? You probably still would have been caught."

Elladan broke in there, laughing and remarking that Elrohir would probably _still _be standing there in terror. After the customary pokes and retorts, he continued with the next part of the story from their view.

Thranduil had to work at concealing a laugh: the twin's antics were certainly amusing, and they seemed to be brightening Legolas's face. They pointed out the things that had gone wrong in their own joking fashion, and quickly followed with a tiny jab at the other, before going on to the next subject.

"… and after all, who can be expected to shoot two arrows at once when you've been trying for less than two weeks?"

"Yes, Elladan didn't even learn to properly brush his teeth until he was six."

"Careful, brother… I can beat you up, you know."

"You have never tried. Hey! Hey, get away from me! Adaaaa!"

In a flash, they were gone, Elrohir skidding away from his brother's clutches, Elladan nearly catching a sleeve as they tore out the door.

Legolas had to smile himself, and he found himself wishing to go and watch the end result, which would probably end up in a tie more or less, both panting on the ground, Elladan, lifting a hand weakly and trying to tap Elrohir, who would squirm out of the way…

But he would wait. He would not leave Nethidal's side until the elder elf woke, and Legolas was able to tell him that he was sorry.

He would wait with a lighter heart. And he would amuse himself by counting the square number of threads per square inch on Nethidal's comforter. He hoped his friend would wake soon. As much for the elder elf's sake, as his own sanity.

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Elladan made a flying tackle that brought Elrohir down hard. They squirmed and struggled, each trying to gain the upper hand. Neither could, and after a fashion, sat panting on opposite sides of the hall.

"I still think I would have won."

"Honestly Elladan, give it up. We're too evenly matched, given a fair fight."

"Right now anyways. Wait until we learn to use weapons. We'll see who beats who then!"

They eyed each other warily, then laughed and clasped hands, pulling themselves to their feet.

"We should probably go back now."

"I am perfectly aware of that, Elrohir, I am simply waiting for you to go first."

"Oh no, dear _gwador-nin, _I insist, age before cleverness."

They glanced at one another again, this time critically. Then, "You don't know which way to go!"

Their voices mingled in perfect unison, echoing of the smooth empty walls of the hall.

"Where are we? Elladan, did you get us lost again?"

"Hey, _I _was following _you. _But we're not lost. I know exactly where we are."

Elrohir rubbed his arms nervously, dark eyes appraising the long hall in front of them. "Then where are we, O great and wise one?"

"I am, and don't you forget it. We're in the catacombs."

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**AN: **Sighhh, that was a hard chappy to write. My goodness, but it took me a while. I hope I got it right this time, because I really hope I don't have to go and fuss with it some more. But you tell me what you think, whether you liked it or not, and if something bugs enough people, I'll go and see what I can do… It's all about keeping you guys happy!

Thanks to:

A. NuEvil, Elladan of Rivendell, Aurehen, flamesofthemo0n, Haldir's Heart and Soul, Illeanah, firehottie, silverkonekotsukari, Mihikari.

I will make special use of the new reply feature on yes, and I apologize for the cliffie last chappy, because, I have to say, that was probably one of the eviler ones I've done. I think I gave you a break here though.

See you, later and always remember-

_Rebel sheep go moo._

**_Lol_ _Luv, Rebell!_ **


	10. Comfort

**Disclaimer: **Hey my homie g's, what's crackin? Dese ain't my peeps, ya'll hear whut I'm sayin? (Lol, gangsta mode… sigh, I need to get off the pixie stix… lol…)

**AN: **Hey guys, HAPPY NEW YEAR! I'd like to apologize for taking so long with this, but it's up and I think it's ok, so that's pretty much it!

**IMPORTANT! **First of all, I am _not _abandoning either of my stories, and yes, the next chappy of MoM is due next. Second, and MORE IMPORTANTLY: Due to family issues, my updates may become more infrequent. (than normal, lol) I've gotten into my rhythm, and I hate to break that, but pressing matters are crowding into my writing time. I just wanted to warn you, although things may clear up soon, and I'll still be posting regularly. Thanks!

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Legolas turned in his chair, long legs folding neatly into place. His hair fell across his face, shielding his features. His bandaged hands clenched and unclenched slowly, almost thoughtfully. He remained like that for some time, seemingly oblivious to the figure watching him.

Thranduil sighed, even through the sheet of golden hair, he could tell his son was sleeping. He ached to give Legolas a fierce hug, and tell the youngling how proud he was of him.

He restrained only because he knew his son desperately needed some rest. Legolas had faithfully stayed awake long past midnight, perhaps sometime around four in the morning. He would probably be furious with himself for falling asleep.

Thranduil had a feeling that trait would follow Legolas throughout his entire life. The feeling of guilt seemed to come all to easily to little Thranduilion.

Legolas turned, burrowing even deeper into his chair, (how did he _fit _into it?) and let his hands go limp. The bright sun was beginning to shine into the room, and of course, it chose to angle directly into the elf's face. It shone onto his hair, seeking a way through the fine sheet to peek into Legolas's piercing blue eyes.

After several minutes, it succeeded, and Legolas sat up with a start. "Ai, Valar!"

He twisted in his chair and fell onto the floor with a thud: his legs had been asleep. Cursing, (half to Thranduil's amusement, half in horror, _where _had he heard _that?)_, he massaged his calf; trying to get some feeling back into the deadened limb.

The prince glanced up, still muttering. He stopped in mid-curse, a look of dismay crossing his face. "Um… hi, Ada."

Thranduil continued to stare at his son in amazement. Legolas tried to bound to his feet and properly address his ada, no doubt in an attempt to placate the temperamental king. He failed miserably, his legs still had no feeling in them, and he collapsed back to the floor, landing rather hard on his rear.

The king continued to stare. Only now, his silence was a hard-fought battle to keep from laughing out loud and ruining what little chance he had of punishing Legolas properly. His son clambered shakily back into his chair, and reached for a glass of water that had been placed on the night-table.

He took a great gulp, eyes never leaving his ada. The next thing he knew, he was sputtering and choking, the whites of his eyes beginning to turn red. "_Narvosalv…" _he managed to choke.

Thranduil instantly understood. _Narvosalv _was extremely potent alcohol usually only consumed by the hardiest of dwarves. Needless to say, it was not the most appropriate thing to drink if you were a young elf used to fine wine only.

Legolas continued to cough and sputter, and the sight he made was incredibly funny. His fair face turned red to match his eyes, a rasping sound issued from his throat, and his hair hung in his face, blinding him.

Thranduil knew his son would be all right, after all, a little _narvosalv _never killed anyone. As a matter of fact, Legolas's coughing slowed, and nearly stopped. "Sorry…"

His voice squeaked, sounding rather like a mouse that had consumed too much wine, and he collapsed into another coughing fit. Thranduil retained his stolid features for an instant, before he began to laugh too.

"Not--funny!" Legolas squeaked out, though, upon hearing his own voice, he began to laugh as well. In a tiny part of his brain, he was extremely glad that no one else was in the room, he would most likely be teased mercilessly if word of his high voice got out.

He was also laughing because he was so relieved that his ada was laughing and not scolding him for using such language. He did not even care that Thranduil was laughing at him.

Ada and son shared a long laugh together, the first in days. Legolas's voice kept squeaking, and that made them laugh, which worsened the squeak, which made them laugh all the harder.

Sometime in the midst of this, Nethidal woke and eyed them suspiciously. To the dazed and disoriented elf, the scene in front of him was no less than incoherent madness. As Legolas tried once more to speak, Nethidal realized the source of the laughter, and he in turn, joined in. Though doing so hurt his side, there was no way in Arda that anyone could refrain from at least snickering at the squeaky voice.

His pained laugh instantly alerted the other two, who were by now on the ground, unable to stay upright. Still laughing, Legolas dragged himself to his friend's side. "I'm so—" A string of unintelligible words followed, with the prince laughing ever harder at his voice. A tiny part of him realized in alarm that he had caught a dreadful disease, the almost incurable giggles.

Elrond happened to walk in at that moment, unusually worried: no one had seen hide or hair of his sons since they had torn out of the room the day before. From past experience, Elrond knew that something was wrong. If no one had reported a mishap centered on the two in over four hours, they were either lost or planning a spectacular prank.

Either option seemed appropriate.

He walked into a scene of chaos. Legolas was giggling insanely, and was that squeaking? Thranduil was on the floor, silver circlet askew, howling in laughter. And his patient was cackling with mirth, and no doubt irritating his side. _That _would _not _do.

"ENOUGH!"

The elven lord's cry echoed through the room, silencing all forms of jollity. His eyes pierced Legolas, who was last to stop. "Legolas, what is going on?"

The prince bit his lip, trying to hold in a snicker. He squeaked out a single syllable and fell back, laughing again. The elven lord stared in amazement as the entire room echoed with elven laughter.

He took one last look at Nethidal, decided the laughing was doing more good than harm and retreated. He didn't even want to know…

Sometime later, Legolas managed to stop the confounded snickers, and pointedly held his breath, forcing the squeak to disappear. When he spoke again, his voice was still a little high, though nowhere as near as bad as it had been.

He turned to his long-time friend and said plainly, "Do not _ever _speak to the twins about this. I shall never forgive you."

Nethidal just smirked, knowing that Legolas would have a rotten time indeed if Elladan and Elrohir would learn of the temporary insanity that had taken place. Which is precisely why he planned to tell them the instant he came across the two.

Legolas missed the sudden gleam that came into his friend's eye as he considered the options; the prince was instead intently staring at his hands.

The injured elf could plainly see that something was upsetting his prince, and more importantly, upsetting his closest friend. "What is wrong, _mellon-nin_?" he asked gently, pushing the squeak ideas to the back of his mind.

Thranduil watched from the floor. His circlet hung over his face, partially obscuring his vision, but he wished to see this little drama played out.

His son picked at the bandages on his hands, suddenly very nervous about what he had to say.

"Nethidal, I wish to… apologize to you."

Said elf brushed his light brown hair away from his eyes with his good arm, wondering what on Arda Legolas was talking about.

"What for?"

The blonde elf flinched slightly. "Well, for… for getting you into this awful mess. What I mean to say, is that if it weren't for me, I suppose you would not be in this position."

Nethidal's eyes softened. "But it wasn't your fault at all! And you would have done the same for me. What are friends for, after all, if they don't go running through Mirkwood to help their best friend when he's in danger?"

Legolas's nail suddenly dug into his hand. "But you don't see at all!" he cried out passionately. "_You_ would have never gotten into that position in the first place, _you _certainly would have been able to shake off your fear and act quicker, and _you,_" the prince's face twisted slightly, "_you _definitely wouldn't have shot me in the side!"

Nethidal's hand flew to his left ribs, a finger tracing the bandages ever so slightly. His recollection of the last moments he was conscious came back. He remembered being surrounded by two very hungry looking spiders, his arm hurting, and the poison coursing through his blood. And he remembered seeing a spider die with an arrow through its eye an instant before white-hot pain exploded in his side.

But he was still alive.

He said this to Legolas, who didn't really answer except to move back to his chair and sit. It was quite obvious that Thranduilion felt extremely guilty, and was holding onto that emotion to punish himself.

Nethidal thought back to the moment, searching for little details about that last moment that might tell him how to make his friend feel better. Of course he didn't blame Legolas, any more than Legolas would blame _him _if their positions were switched. The dark haired elf sighed. _A curse on me and my kind for having such strong emotions!_

He remembered that the spiders were positioned both front and back, directly so. The shots, came so fast that not even the most skilled elf in Mirkwood would have been able to fire them one after another. Which meant that Legolas had actually used that fool method of two arrows at once!

He felt a momentary flash of anger and much belated fear before he calmed, reminding himself that he would be in a much different position now if Legolas had not took the risky chance.

He said as much, but Legolas's face remained doubtful. The elder wood-elf sighed and indicated that Legolas should sit on the bed. He moved cautiously over, settled himself on the very edge. His blue eyes were searching, and Nethidal thought, as they swept over his face, that the young prince could see straight through him.

He was vaguely aware of the king getting to his feet. Thranduil watched carefully, pleased that everything seemed to be going well.

Nethidal spoke once more, his eyes holding Legolas's with their intensity. "I do _not _blame you, anymore than you would blame me. Trust me."

A barely perceptible pause followed these words, in which time the two friends held the other's gaze. Finally, Legolas nodded, and smiled. The two clasped forearms and grinned at each other.

Over his friend's shoulder, Nethidal caught Thranduil wink proudly at him and exit silently. He felt a rush of excitement that the king was proud of him, before he realized that Thranduil was probably always proud of him, after all, he _did _manage to keep Legolas from doing incredibly stupid things all the time.

The elf that had a tendency to do such things slid off the bed and stretched. "_Mellon-nin, _I have to go. The twins tore out of here last night in a frenzy. I should go and see whether they've managed to kill each other off yet."

Nethidal laughed as Legolas left the room, sure that he would be back shortly, and bearing a new bruise, cut, abrasion, or all three. His amusement dissipated suddenly as he reached up to scratch behind his ear and found a little bit of confetti stuck there. Wincing, he tore the pink circle from his skin and cursed lightly as he felt several hairs come free in the process.

He no longer felt quite so… _fond _of the little bratling prince.

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Elladan glanced around, his eyes slowly refocusing. He had slept very little, too unnerved by the ever present darkness pressing in about them. They had wandered, lost, late into the night. At least, they thought it was late; there was no light to give them indication of the time. All they had was the steady growing ache in their feet.

They had lost the light sometime ago. The torches had fluttered and gone out, as though a ghost had blown them out quickly, and as easily as a child blowing out a candle. They had panicked for a minute before reassuring themselves that there was, in fact, _no _ghost coming to get them.

Finally, they had stopped for the night, accepting the fact that they were only wending themselves deeper into the twisting passageways. Neither had slept well, as their eyes were unused to seeing pitch black over their heads. Both preferred some of light, be it bright sunlight of the twinkle of stars. This pitch-dark tunnel made both of them nervous.

"El?" Elrohir inquired nervously. His hand found his twins and clutched it tightly.

Elladan sat up. "'Ro, you're freezing! What's wrong?" His brother's hand was like ice, and Elladan realized with a start that he was shivering. The elder of the two drew his brother into a tight embrace, feeling Elrohir's body shudder.

"'Ro, what's wrong? Are you well?"

Elrohir exhaled a shaky breath. "_Ai, _I think so. I don't know. I'm so cold." He felt a wave of fear wash over him like river water over a stone.

Elladan felt this emotion, and knew immediately that his brother was absolutely terrified. The two could share strong emotions through their link with each other, as well as the occasional thought. In this way, Elladan would try to discern some of what was troubling his brother.

He hugged his twin tighter, nervously. Elrohir's thoughts remained blocked, with the thin veil that kept them separated; Elladan may as well have been trying to see into his ada's head.

It wasn't working. Elladan felt his brother's tremors grow worse, though he desperately tried to soothe them.

Now shaking himself, Elladan began to talk, as much to hear his voice as to try and calm his brother. "_Gwador-nin, _remember what happened after Ada taught us to swim? We'd decided that it would be fun to go down to the river one day and swim in the pool that is formed behind those rocks. We obtained Ada's permission for once, and went immediately.

"It was fine for the first hour or so. But then I got caught in the current: without realizing it, I'd gotten too far out into the river. You followed, first tying a vine around a rock to ensure your safety, and then to your self. You reached me just before I was swept into the rapids. Remember those? How the water was forced through a narrow passage and dashed against the rocks? I would have been thrown against them too, but you caught my hand and refused to let go.

"I was terrified, I remember screaming, feeling the hungry pull of the river, and my hand beginning to slip out of your grasp. I was begging you not to let go, and you kept reassuring me, saying that you'd as soon as untie yourself, than let me go.

"You pulled me back into the shallow water, on your own, I was too scared to be of much help. Remember what you said then? I was holding onto you, afraid to let go, and you said, "I'll always be there, _gwador-nin. _You can count on me to catch you when you fall. I'll always be there for you, no matter what.' And then you made me laugh by adding, 'even if you're being chased by a pack of huge ugly orcs claiming that you were singing and therefore, begging to be caught.'

"I know you remember that. And now it's my turn to catch you. I'll always be here." As Elladan recited the words his brother had told him years ago, he felt Elrohir's shudders slowing. "I'll be there… even if Ada's after you, with that huge, awful voice he uses, after you've slipped burping powder into his wine at a huge meeting."

Elrohir laughed, breaking the tension. "_Hannon lle, gwador."_

They rose to their feet then, and started off, knowing now, that they could handle whatever the tunnels of Mirkwood had to throw at them.

Except maybe, the trailing shadow that they had picked up…

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**AN: **jeeze, this was another difficult chappy to write. Honestly, I don't think I'm much good at the comforting, apologizing thing. Neway, HAPPY NEW YEAR (again) and welcome to 2006! I thank you all for sticking with me thus far!

I'd like to thank:

**Alenor Peredhil, Haldir's Heart and Soul, flames of the mo0n, Aurehen, Aranna Undomiel, Eshlyn Kar, and silverkonekotsukari. **I really appreciate you guys!


	11. They meet again or do they?

**Disclaimer: **Sneaky squirrels screech scary Sindarin sayings. Lol, **Alenor Perhedel, **that randomness is for you! They ain't mine, ya hear?

**AN: **Well, everybody, I must say, I'm very disappointed in you. Although the chappy is way late, you had no right to throw your household objects at me! I have reasons! But I won't waste your time here, seeing as you're about to hit me for not letting the chappy come faster…

Oh ya, and congrats and thanks to **silverkonekotsukari **for being the 100th reviewer! (Dances)

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Elrohir felt his hand being crushed, and he knew instantly what had happened. "Oh, Elladan, you haven't walked into another wall, have you?" A slightly nasal curse was his answer, and the younger twin knew he had been correct.

"Where'd you hear that? It doesn't sound like an Imladris curse."

"It isn't. Remember that one time we went to visit Legolas when he was grounded, and he kicked his bookshelf because he was bored and all the books fell on him? I heard it after an atlas hit his head."

"Ah."

The twins were silent for a few moments, pondering what their friend was doing then. Elladan was sure that the young prince was getting into trouble again, unaware that they were missing. Elrohir, on the other hand, was thinking enviously that Legolas was outside sitting under a tree.

After a bit, Elladan remarked, "I hope Thranduil never catches young _tithen-las _using such language."

Elrohir laughed, his first in some time, and added, "There wouldn't beany thing left of him."

As they stopped speaking, the darkness seemed to fall upon them like a thick black cloak, smothering all sound except their own heart-beats. Elrohir clutched his brother's hand tightly, as a feeling of despair washed over him. "We are_ never _going to get out of here."

Elladan turned toward his twin in alarm, though he couldn't see Elrohir's face in the darkness, he could well imagine the expression on his face.

"Yes we are, don't you dare give up on me! Ada has probably already noticed we are missing, and when he questions the guards and realizes we haven't gone outside… it will be a simple enough matter to send out some elves to search for us! It won't be long at all."

As Elrohir's silence continued, Elladan reached out a hand to gently brush along his twins forehead. His fingers felt like they were rubbing smooth ice. "You're still freezing. What is wrong?" Further examination revealed that Elrohir's eyes were closed, and he was swaying slightly on his feet.

"Elrohir?" Elladan carefully settled his younger brother onto the ground and dropped to his knees beside him. His twin remained unresponsive. Now thoroughly frightened, he clasped his brother's hands and began talking, hardly aware of what he was saying. He had the awful feeling that his twin was slipping away from him.

He was barely aware that he was babbling, concentrating only on keeping his brother with him. A tiny part in the back of his mind resented the fact that all the other elves were probably out in the sunshine, laughing and having a great time.

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Legolas let out a groan of disgust as he walked into a spider-web. He was filthier than he'd ever been before, and he shuddered to think what his Ada would say. He was dusty from head to toe, his normally fair, pale skin a disgusting corpse gray. His tunic was ripped, he had stumbled into more dead ends than he could count, fallen down a hidden flight of stairs, had mud smeared across his front from a muddy wall, and now he had spider-webs in his hair.

He was miserable.

If one walked behind him and was silent enough, one could hear his mumblings, which went something like this: "Twins… nothing but trouble… grounded… missing… filthy…. Honey… dratted drafty tunnels… twins…"

He had been searching for the better part of four hours, though to look at him, one might think it had been more like four days. Something had compelled him to take the tunnels when Elrond had approached Thranduil for help in locating his missing elflings. Why, he did not know, but he was beginning to regret it.

Occasionally he lighted another torch he had selected from a bracket on the wall. He had no intention of being trapped down there without light.

As he repeated this process, he noticed that the bandages around his hands were no longer a bright and clean white. They looked like everything else on him: filthy. Sighing, he set the old torch down and picked up the new one, wincing as the rough wood scraped against his cuts.

He continued, wondering what on Arda had possessed him to go into the tunnels. He did not particularly like tunnels. The secret ones behind the tapestry were inviting in only one aspect, and that was because he didn't know what was in them. He knew what was in these tunnels: dust. And mud, and hard stone walls, and mysterious puddles. And not the twins.

Legolas continued, although by now he was sure that the twins were not in the dark passageways, but in fact off laughing over the fact that some poor elf was down in the dank darkness looking for them. It was all probably an elaborate prank.

He wished he had thought of it (if only to make sure that Nethidal would be the one in this position).

His sharp ears picked up the sound of running water, and he headed toward it eagerly, hoping for a chance to clean up before running into someone. The echoes bounced off the stone, making it difficult to understand where the underground stream actually was, but he was persistent, and in less then twenty minutes, he found himself staring at a cheerful bubbling stream.

Happily, he knelt beside it, allowing the water to rush over his sore hands. It was absolutely frigid, but it cleaned the dirt well enough. The current was fast, and before he realized it, the bandages around his hand were pulled off and sucked away. The water now brushed fully against the cuts, and he winced in pain and surprise.

The water, though refreshing, burned against the wounds, reopening them and causing them to hurt even worse. Gritting his teeth, he quickly washed his arms and face, washed away all the dirt and grime that had accumulated there. He then ran his fingers through his hair, dislodging the spider webs and smoothing it back into place.

Glancing down at his tunic, he flicked off the dry mud in annoyance. Then he washed his hands again, clenched his lip between his teeth as the water plucked at the edges of the cuts. There, he was at least partly presentable. He picked up the torch and went on, committing the place and how to find it to memory. Perhaps, when he had no open wounds and more time, and _if _he ever wanted to come back to this rotten place, he would explore where the stream came from and where it went.

Twas a very big 'if'.

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The rocks were incredibly interesting. There was nothing that he would rather do than look at the fascinating structure of underground rocks all day. Some were round, others were square, and still others were a strange kind of shape for which there was no name…

Legolas shook his head furiously and sighed. So much for trying to amuse himself that way. Telling oneself (an elf no less) that rocks were enthralling was like telling oneself that dwarves were endearing. Neither statement would ever be believed.

Truth be told, he was ferociously bored. Yes, he was still looking for the twins, and no, he hadn't found them, but… _there is only so many rocks I can look at before I go completely mad! Out of my tree, as I believe Elladan would say…_

On and on the tunnels went, and Legolas was surprised at how extensive they were. It felt like hours since he had left the stream, but he had a feeling, if allowed to glance at a clock, it would have been only fifteen minutes. Time dragged underground, as if, since there was rarely anyone to keep it, it often turned lazy and slowed.

He could only imagine what it would have been like for the twins if they were indeed trapped and lost down here. He remembered their near-disastrous trip down into the tunnels, and how Elrohir had been so fidgety. He didn't like the thought of what might happen to the younger twin if stuck down in the caves for nearly a day. It sent cold shivers up his spine.

A flickering twist in the shadows had him spinning about, hand going to his belt, feeling the comforting grip of his dagger slide into his hand. A quick but thorough search revealed nothing, but his nerves were still on edge. He picked up his pace, fully on alert now, determined to understand what was going on in these awful passages.

He jogged now, but silently, frequently turning about, moving down side passageways only to turn and come back out. He caught another glimpse of the shadow creature, but not nearly enough light was shed to see what the thing really was. In a second he was after it, racing along the tunnels like he was born and raised there, but it did not take long for the shadow to give him the slip, and he was forced to slow his frantic pace.

In annoyance, he turned around and went back along his way. There was absolutely no reason to follow ghosts deep under ground. _Well,_ he thought gloomily, _any _deeper _than I am already…_

Resigning himself to the fact that some shadow creature wanted to follow him, he began to be bored again. He doubted that the creature would kill him, sensing more of a curiosity than animosity. He could certainly understand that.

Legolas sighed again. He certainly wasn't about to try telling himself that rocks were fascinating again. He wanted to talk. So talk he did, reciting history, old tales from the Second Age, and even trying to imitate Deladri's ghost stories.

Surprisingly, he didn't feel as if he completely mutilated the storyteller's legends.

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Elladan's eyes snapped into focus. His uneasy doze had been interrupted by a sound completely unfamiliar to these dark tunnels, and yet, seemly fitting.

He strained his hearing to catch the sound that had caught his attention. He needn't have bothered. It came again, loud and clear. And much closer.

He would have bolted but for Elrohir. He wouldn't have left his twin for the world, much less a creepy sound that was probably his imagination. But then, imaginative sounds didn't get closer.

It began low, this bubbling noise that reminded him of boiling goop, and rose through the scale, ending in a high screech. He shuddered, it sounded like something straight of a horror tale.

Several minutes later, just as he was starting to relax, a flickering light came around a corner. Elladan shut his eyes in pain; after being in the dark for so long, his eyes were extremely sensitive. But that didn't stop him from hearing a sound, this time much louder in volume, and not just because of the frightening nearness.

While the sound was still echoing throughout the tunnels, Elladan felt a tug on his ankles and a cry of fear escaped him, mingling with the cry of surprise from his assailant. He opened his eyes, though the world was still rather blurry, and squinted.

Sprawled across his lap, clutching a torch and looking extremely surprised, was the prince of Mirkwood himself. He instantly rearranged his face to one of formality, though it worked about as well as it did when they had first met him.

"So. Nice to see you again."

Elladan grinned and clasped his friend's hand. He was so happy to hear another voice, someone who could help, that he nearly split his face from grinning. Then he remembered his brother, and his expression changed so dramatically, for a second Legolas thought he had been shot.

He grasped the twin's shoulders, babbling, "What's wrong, Elladan, what's wrong? Are you all right?"

Elladan spun and dropped to his knees. Legolas instantly saw the problem, and fear began to inch its cold fingers around his heart. "He is injured?"

The elder twin shook his head violently. "No, and he would not tell me what was wrong before he collapsed. He is deathly cold, and has been so for hours."

The prince's brow furrowed in concern and confusion. Elladan felt his stomach drop. "You do not know what is wrong?"

Legolas shook his head. "I am no healer Elladan. The best I can do is guess, and guesses are of no use. We must get him back to your Ada."

Elladan nodded worriedly, and moved to scoop his brother into his arms. He would carry Elrohir, Legolas would have the task of lookout and guide. He did not ask what Legolas thought was possibly following them. He would only scare himself.

And speaking of scaring…

As they began to walk, Elladan pulled even with Legolas and asked, "What on Arda were you doing? You scared me to death!"

In the light of the torch, Elladan perceived the prince's fair skin turning a delicate shade of pink. "I'm sorry about that. I was trying to remember the tale of the Bog Beast, and the sound it supposedly made. I think I got it right the last time."

Elladan shivered, remembering the way the hair on the back of his neck had stood up. "I think you're right. You have a talent for that." He eyed Legolas, wondering how on Arda the prince could have made a sound like that.

He decided not to continue that line of talk for fear Legolas would one day remember how terrified the elder twin had been. The wood-elf would probably do a repeat performance on a stormy night.

Instead he picked a different topic. Now that there was someone to talk to, he didn't want the silence to come back. Legolas seemed only to happy to reply, and so they struck up a lengthy conversation on past exploits, comparing ideas and swapping plans to try on their respective households.

The time seemed to go much faster when there was friendly torch-light and an even more friendly elf. Before long they approached a small stream, and Legolas knelt to dip his hands into the water. Elladan gently deposited his twin and did the same, gasping at the icy temperature. But there was something else to the water, something that made him uneasy.

The water began to burn, plucking at the skin as if it wanted to yank it from his bones. Gasping, he snatched his hands from the liquid, but the burning sensation continued for several seconds before fading. A glance at Legolas revealed the wood-elf had also removed his hands from the water and was gently blowing on them.

The prince turned toward Elladan and stretched out his hands, showing the elder twin the cuts that were now deeper and bleeding freely. The skin around the wounds had puffed up, and the normally slender hands were swollen and painful looking.

Elladan hissed through his teeth in sympathy and without a word picked up the torch and lit another. Legolas watched as the twin ripped several thin strips from his tunic sleeves, and approached. He stretched out his hands, silently allowing Elladan access to his injuries.

The Noldor gently wrapped the cloth around Legolas's left hand, but careful as he was, his actions made the cuts burn like fire, and the pain that resulted raced up Legolas's arm like a burst of lightning. It was all he could do not to yank his hand away.

Elladan knew that he was causing his friend pain, but the cuts needed to be wrapped. He continued, finishing the left hand, and then reaching for the right and finished the process.

Legolas smiled at him and examined the neat makeshift bandages. "Thank you, Elladan. They feel better already."

Elladan was studying the stream, a thoughtful look on his face. Cautiously, he dipped his finger into the water and let it trail there for several seconds, but quickly jerked it out when he felt the beginning sensation of a burn. He had wanted to take a drink, having not had anything to drink for hours and hours, but he suddenly felt that that wasn't such a good idea.

Scooping up his brother, he followed Legolas through a tunnel, a smile swiftly growing upon his face as he thought of being out of these confounded tunnels.

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**AN: **Well, I must say, that being grounded really sucks, and I hope you enjoyed this chappy because I may be grounded even more if my mother founds out I snuck onto the computer to post this.

Thanks to all who reviewed: **Flamesof themo0n, Alenor Peredhel, Aurehen, Silverkonekotsukari, **and **Haldir's Heart and Soul.**

I LOVE YOU GUYS!


	12. Oh dear what've i done?

**Disclaimer: **(To the tune of Oscar Meyer Weiner)OH I WISH I owned the characters from Arda… Tolkien wouldn't give them up to me—ee—ee!

**AN: **Well… (hides from a sudden downpour of monkey wrenches, which appear quite suddenly and with no warning) Please do not hurt me. Ya'll are lucky that I didn't give up on this story completely. It is getting more and more difficult to write these dratted chappies… not to mention that I have sworn up and down never to give up on a story if there are people who are reading and enjoying it. Special thanks go to **Alenor Peredhel**, for giving me a writing tip that got rid of my writer's block!

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The torch flickered, and Elladan looked at it sharply. There was actually no danger of it going out, the flickering had been caused by Legolas's hand shaking. The light threw shadows against the rock, creating the illusion that many creatures were lurking, just out of sight.

For a split second, Elladan was annoyed; the weight of his twin in his arms was a constant reminder that time may have been running out, and Legolas was playing with the shadows. That opinion was changed quickly enough, as he regarded the wood-elf, he realized that his friend's hands were growing ever weaker.

They shook quite badly now, and in the light, Elladan could see that they had begun to swell again. The makeshift bandages had darkened with blood, and Elladan's sharp eyes could see the skin around the cloth blackening. The wood-elf was forced to use both hands to grasp the large torch, seeing as his hands would no longer clench tightly enough to hold it properly.

The Noldor sighed and stopped. He couldn't go on through these cursed tunnels while the stubborn wood-elf was in pain. It would eat at his conscience if the wounds turned out to be poisoned or infected, and besides, Legolas was the only defense they had against the creatures that might be lurking about. If he couldn't hold his bow or grasp his knives, they would all be killed.

"Legolas, wait."

The wood-elf started in surprise, leaping so high his hair brushed the tunnel roof. He was shushing Elladan before he even landed. Elladan looked at him confused for a second, then gently put Elrohir down. He would ask the flighty being later.

The 'flighty being' stooped and reached for Elrohir, assuming that the younger elf was the reason for their stop. Elladan intercepted him and pulled him to his feet, careful not to grasp his hands. He maneuvered Legolas over to the torch bracket, in order to have more light, and gently began to unwind the bandages.

Legolas resisted for several seconds, unwilling (as always) to submit to an inspection of his wounds, but Elladan quickly stifled his movements by looking purposely at his twin. Legolas knew then that Elladan would neither go on without looking at his hands, nor wait any longer than necessary for his twin to get worse. So, with much shuffling of the feet, and an elaborate but silent sigh, Legolas allowed his friend to inspect.

Elladan was gentle as he could, but he knew he was causing his friend pain. The bandages were sodden by this time, and stuck together, so that Elladan was forced to give tiny jerks in order to get the fabric apart. He finished one hand, and, without looking, immediately began to work on the left. This one came much easier, and it was off in seconds.

By this time, Legolas had taken a peek at his right hand and was staring with a shocked, sickened fascination. Elladan snatched it away and held the two side by side by the wrists. Legolas hissed in pain as his wounds flew through the air, but was distracted by the look on Elladan's face as he held the hands up to the light.

It was almost funny.

But his hands throbbed and his amusement was stolen quickly. They still bled freely, and the skin around them was bruising. His entire palms and undersides of his fingers were black and blue, and it was beginning to creep up his wrists and around to the back of the hands. The wounds, which had before only been scratches, now appeared to be gouged into his skin. They would need stitches, and soon. The blood-flow continued, dripping down his arms and to the floor as it reached his elbows. His slender hands were swollen painfully, making movement with them difficult.

And holding the torch had earned him a deep splinter. Before he could react, Elladan pinched the piece of wood and pulled it out. A tiny trickle of blood flowed from this new wound, but Elladan knew from painful experience that letting it sit there, especially with Legolas's hands so bruised, was just asking for trouble. And they certainly did not need to get in much more.

Legolas hissed but let his hand remain steady, keeping himself from pulling his hands away. Elladan looked up quickly, mouthing, "I'm sorry!" Legolas shook his head, denying the apology. He would rather have it out than have it infected later.

He tried to flex his hands, but they moved only half an inch or not at all, and the blood came faster.

Elladan shook his head and ripped more strips of cloth from his tunic. He bound then hands again, as gently and firmly as he possibly could and hoped that the elf would stop bleeding soon.

He glanced at the torch, still burning cheerily, and realized there was no way Legolas would be able to hold it. The wood-elf would carry Elrohir then, after all, one's arms did the carrying, leaving Legolas's hands relatively free of any weight on them. Elladan would take care of the torch. He helped rest his twin in Legolas's arms, and reached for the light, grimacing as he fumbled; the wood was wet from Legolas's blood.

He had not gotten more than three feet when he felt a tap on his calf. He turned, and saw Legolas balancing on one foot, having no other way to get the twin's attention, he had hopped forward and used his feet. Legolas bent slightly and turned to the side, offering Elladan a clear view of the white-handled knives he wore. Hand shaking slightly, Elladan reached forward and grasped one of the handles. Pulling it from its sheath, he allowed himself one or two seconds to admire the fine craftsmanship before turning again and walking on.

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Nethidal sat up slowly and uncomfortably. His side ached, but distantly so, and his arm throbbed. He wondered briefly whether or not to ask for a pain-relieving tea and decided against it: he would rather deal with the pain than drink that nasty stuff.

He would have loved to get out of bed and help look for the missing twins, but Elrond and Thranduil had both insisted on him remaining bed-ridden. The most he could do was sit against the pillows. He wished that he could be outside, or even down in the tunnels, fighting, tracking down the missing elves… anything but simply sitting like a wet rag.

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Legolas blew several strands of hair out of his eyes with a huff. How he wished they were out of these tunnels! His hands throbbed, and he wished for some sort of salve or tea to numb it. He would have taken the tea, even if it had tasted foul. Anything (almost) was better than this torture!

He thought enviously of Nethidal, who was probably lying in bed, against clean sheets, happy as a hobbit after a second breakfast.

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Elrond was frantic. He flew this way and that along the corridors, keeping well ahead of King Thranduil, who was trying to persuade him to come back to the hall.

"Elrond! Stop your worrying and come with me! There is nothing to worry about! I'm sure you sons will be found safe and sound! The—" the king turned as Elrond rushed back past him, "the report just came back, they have not gone through the gate! They—" he darted down a side corridor and caught hold of the elven lord's forearms as Elrond came back along the passage, "they are not out in the woods, and I assure you, there is nothing dangerous inside the gates."

He continued his soothing talk, steering Elrond back along the halls. "They will be found, _mellon-nin_." Elrond looked up, slightly stunned by the gentle familiarity with which Thranduil used the term. "I swear it."

They reached the high hall and Thranduil seated Elrond firmly in a chair with strict orders that he not move. Elrond, despite the current situation, could not help but be amused by the way the hot-tempered elven king switched from friendship to stern and kingly in the blink of an eye.

His mind, left out to wander, instantly returned to his sons' disappearance, gnawing at it like little mice at a hunk of cheese. He wondered how on Arda they could have disappeared so completely. He had missed it, and had only realized that they were actually gone after Legolas had inquired as to their whereabouts. The wood-elf had poked his head into Elrond's chambers and said, in a rather apologetic tone, "Lord Elrond, I'm sorry for interrupting your reading, but I was wondering if you know where the twins are. I've searched all over for them, but…"

And then everything had hit the chandelier. Upon learning that the twins had been missing overnight, Legolas immediately related the news to Thranduil, who had sent out elves to search for the wayward sons of Elrond.

All those scouts had returned now, reporting that a thorough search had turned up neither hide nor hair of the twins. All except Legolas. The young archer had volunteered for the tunnels, even against his Ada's will, and had left before the matter could be disputed further.

Thranduil re-entered the hall, mugs of tea in his hands. He set one in front of the elven lord and kept the other for himself. Settling down in a chair opposite Elrond, he answered the Noldor's unspoken question with a sigh. "Legolas has not returned."

Elrond's breath _whooshed _out of him, and he slumped.

"I have sent a patrol down to comb the tunnels. That is the only place they have not searched, and so logic states that that is where they are. If Legolas does find your sons, the patrol will. They are in good hands either way…"

Elrond looked up as the king as Thranduil trailed off. Although his worry over Elladan and Elrohir was wearing, his perceptiveness told him that something troubled the elven king. "Is something wrong?"

Thranduil shook his head slightly, but broke under the sharp gaze of Elrond. "I am concerned about Legolas. He does not like the tunnels… and yet he chose –nay, insisted- to search them. He has never been completely comfortable in dark, enclosed spaces. When he was younger, he was trapped in those tunnels for three days. He overcame his fear of them eventually, but I can't imagine him _insisting _to go back to them. If I had not seen it with my own eyes, I wouldn't believe it."

Elrond considered this new information in some surprise. "Perhaps he knew somehow that Elladan and Elrohir had gone that way. I do not understand it any better than you. We will have to ask him when he returns."

Thranduil muttered something under his breath and Elrond turned on him suddenly. "_What _did you just say?"

Thranduil looked positively miserable as he repeated, "_If _he comes back."

The elven lord took Thranduil's shoulders in his hands. "What do you mean? If it is important I think it would be best for everyone involved if you would tell me."

Blue eyes, so much like Legolas's, closed in defeat. "The tunnels are dangerous. There are things that dwell in the deepest of them… Things that move on silent feet, creatures that would do the elves harm if they could get to us. But they cannot tolerate light of any sort, and so we are protected. But several times… elves have gone down into the tunnels and have not come back out. We can only assume that their torches were dropped or had been burned out, and the creatures descended on them then. If the twins and Legolas are deep enough, and something happens to their torch… I do not want to think of it."

He eyed Elrond, sizing up the other's stricken expression, and he wished suddenly that he had not said anything. Sure enough, Elrond leaped to his feet and headed out of the hall. "I am going to go and find my sons."

Thranduil coughed and waited for Elrond to turn. "It is that way," he said, pointing at a door, "and I am coming with you." He would not stand by and let Elrond go into danger, and he was as anxious to do something as the elven lord. _Please let them keep the torch burning!_

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Elladan stumbled on an upraised rock and uttered the first syllable of a curse before catching himself, reminding himself that the need for silence was of utmost importance. He glanced sheepishly at the prince, only to find Legolas standing silently, shoulders shaking in quiet mirth. Only then did he realize that Legolas had recognized that syllable. After all, Elladan had learned it from the prince, who had uttered it shortly after having an atlas drop onto his head.

They kept moving, but dared not look at each other, fearful that each other's expression would send them into a noisy giggling fit. There was precious little to be jovial about though, and they wanted to keep the energy that their mirth gave them.

Legolas slipped forward, tension leaving his shoulders as his snickers overtook him. For the first time since entering the dratted tunnel system, he felt loose, not tense. The tunnels still unnerved him, yes, but it was infinitely better to go through them with someone. Elladan was a constant presence, and Legolas knew that there was no reason to succumb to the blind panic that had overtaken him when he had been trapped in the tunnels years earlier.

Elrohir's weight was constant as well, he reflected with a muffled grunt as he stepped up onto a small ledge. His worry for the youngest twin was beginning to mount. Elrohir hadn't moved a muscle since Legolas had picked him up several hours ago. It was difficult to tell if he was even breathing. Legolas stopped short as a wave of fear rushed over him. _Was _he breathing?

Elladan had turned upon hearing the footfalls behind him cease, and upon seeing the terrified look upon Legolas's face dropped to his knees beside the prince and his brother. "What is wrong?" he hissed frantically, forgetting about the need for silence. "Is he all right?"

Legolas motioned for Elladan to place the flat of his knife near Elrohir's mouth, and the eldest twin, understanding immediately what Legolas feared, complied eagerly. His hands trembled as they waited, crouched in a tunnel hundreds of feet below the ground, to see if Elrohir still breathed. He couldn't believe that they had neglected to stop and check him before. Guilt began to gnaw at the back of his head and his breath hitched.

In the dim light of the torch, they saw the blade fog slightly. He lived.

Elladan's knees gave out and he sat heavily back, taking a deep breath of relief. "Ai Valar, thank you."

Legolas smiled briefly, white teeth flashing red in light of the torch. "Well… I feel a fool now."

"So do I." A short pause in which they eyed each other. "How are your hands?"

Legolas spared a glance at his hands and said casually, "All right. I still can't flex my fingers though."

Elladan set down the torch, intending to pin the stubborn prince down and forcibly check his wounds. The long wooden light wobbled for an instant in the poorly-made bracket, then fell.

"No!"

"No!"

They cried out in unison and dove for the torch, hands outstretched. Legolas had been closer, but he missed and fell heavily to his stomach. While their cries were still echoing out into the tunnels, Elladan made his bid and missed as well. He landed atop Mirkwood's prince with a thud, and the torch clattered to the ground, sparks flying as it flickered for the last time. In the last light, Legolas and Elladan made eye contact, each wearing a look of pure horror.

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Deep in the tunnels, a creature came awake. It raised its head and listened intently to the echoes that had disturbed its slumber. A slow smile spread across its ugly face and it heaved itself to its feet. Elves. Deep underground. Close.

The elves were the creature's greatest enemy. Elven sorcerers had driven it here, in the early First Age. The elves had given it no tolerance for light. The elves had crippled it, nearly killed it. The elves had destroyed its life.

But the elves had also given it a great gift, though most likely unintentional. The mixture of spells used to aid its attackers had combined and given it night vision. Even in the deepest night, it was bright as midday to the creature. Because of this, the beast survived, even thrived in its new environment. And when it came across other creatures like it in the deep bowels of the earth, it quickly made allies. No, actually not allies… but slaves. The other 'gift' that the elves had mistakenly bestowed onto the beast was the ability of telepathy. If the beast concentrated hard enough, it could bend the will of its enemies and turn them into willing slaves.

This ancient beast was called the _radag-gor_. And it took revenge on any elves that dared to enter its tunnels unprepared. It lumbered down the tunnel calling for its slaves. It would feast well tonight.

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**AN: **Sorry for this totally unappealing chappy… I couldn't stand not updating though, so I cranked it out. I apologize again for the extreme lateness of it. Thanks to those who reviewed! **Alenor Peredhel, silverkonekotsukari, theo darkstar, Haldir's Heart and Soul, Aranna Undomiel, Aurehen, **and **Quel Marth. **I live for your kind words!


	13. It's cooooming!

**Disclaimer: **I do not own, in any way shape or form, The Lord of the Rings. I borrow the characters, torture them righteously, and give them back, though, not always in prime condition.

**AN: ** This chappy is dedicated to my good friends **Alenor Peredhel **and **Aurehen. **Thank you so much for your lovely reviews!

Now… for the rest of you… (scowls menacingly, lol) I happen to be on the story alerts for _nineteen _people on this story. I love you all for your kindness in doing so, and also to the twelve people who list this fic in their story favs. You're all too kind and I hope you will continue to be satisfied with my little work. Don't forget to review! I know who you are! Lol, I'm just kiddin' ya'll….

**Please read: **I apologize for the lateness and shortness of this chappy, but I would like to say that THIS FIC IS NEARLY OVER! (cries) I estimate two more chapters, and in my appreciation of you all, they will come quicker and they WILL be LONGER! Thought you all should know where this stands! Thank you!

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Elladan let his head drop and slammed his fist against the floor. The torch was gone… and it was his entire fault. They were trapped down here, with no light and no means of moving safely, and no way of helping his little brother.

He felt Legolas shift under him, and realized that he was probably squashing the poor wood-elf. He rose, careful not to step on Legolas and stood to the side, ready to help if Legolas stumbled.

The wood-elf also felt very much like slamming his hand against the floor in frustration, but prudently reminded himself of his still-throbbing hands. It would not do to bang them against stone. "I cannot believe that just happened."

"How are we supposed to find our way out?" Elladan moaned softly. "We will be trapped down here forever! They will find our corpses sometime in the future, rotted and decomposed and—"

"Elladan, calm yourself. We will not be trapped down here forever." Despite his firm words, Legolas could not help but shudder silently. He did not have the best of memories concerning these wretched tunnels and he was determined not to repeat his experience. He forced himself to remember that that the twins, Elrohir especially, needed his help to escape the maze of tunnels, and he would resign himself to spend eternity in Umbar before he would let harm come to his friends.

"I know the way out. I memorized all the turns I took once I left the catacombs, and I know my way around them easily enough. We will be fine."

"But we cannot see, Legolas. How on Arda can you retrace your steps if you cannot see them?"

A sound, cloth sliding over rough stone put them both on edge, Elladan feeling for Legolas's knife and clutching it firmly. A muffled cough and then, "E-Elladan?"

The eldest twin slid the knife into his belt and felt for his brother frantically. "Elrohir! You are all right?" His searching fingers touched cloth and he pulled his brother into a fierce embrace. He sensed Legolas relax and come nearer, and could imagine the relieved look on the prince's face.

"I-I suppose. Elladan, are we still underground?"

The faintness of his brother's voice jolted Elladan viciously. "Yes, _gwador-nin, _but we will not be for long, according to our blonde guide here."

"I am not merely a guide Elladan. I offer quite a lot of other services you know. Protection, humorous takes on situations and the like."

Elladan felt his brother's head swivel, searching for the owner of the voice. "Legolas, is that you?"

"Yes. I found your brother and yourself more than two hours ago. We are closer to the surface already. We lost the torch, but I was just explaining to your twin that the lack of light will pose no problem."

Elrohir shuddered, and Elladan felt his twin's hands clench tighter around his shoulders. "But we-"

"Don't worry, Elrohir." The youngest twin felt a hand descend through the darkness and rest lightly on his shoulder. Legolas's voice was calm, confident, displaying none of the fear he felt inside. "We will get out of these wretched tunnels, I promise you that. I won't let any harm come to us."

"But that's just it! Don't you see?" Elladan felt his brother remove his hands. "We will be trapped down here! It is coming! It is coming and it will kill us!"

Legolas blinked in confusion, although it did nothing to shed some light on the situation. "What is coming? Elrohir, what do you mean?" Unconsciously, his hand tightened onto his friend's shoulder, the blood-soaked bandages leaving an imprint on Elrohir's tunic. If Elrohir knew something, it might mean the difference of life and death. Unknown to his father, Legolas had done some research on the tunnels. He knew as well as any other elf what lurked under the halls of Mirkwood's palace.

"The creature of the dark. It comes for us." Elrohir's voice rasped uncomfortably on their ears. "It knows we're here. We must leave!"

Legolas straightened, nerves suddenly on edge. "He's right, Elladan. Elrohir, can you stand?"

After only a slight hesitation, the younger twin rose unsteadily. Legolas swiftly arranged them into a line that stretched across the tunnel, Elladan on the right, himself in the middle, and Elrohir on the left. "I cannot use my hands to feel for the openings of new tunnels. Each of you needs to feel along the walls and tell me when you feel a tunnel branching off."

"How will that help us?"

Legolas smiled into the dark. "I memorized all the turns I took, remember? You will see. Elrohir, hold my other knife will you?" He waited until he heard the blade sliding out of its leather sheath. "Now. We must hurry. Come, this way."

He rested his hands lightly on the twin's shoulders, and even that hurt the tender wounds, but he held his pain back and began to move forward. He would rather have the pain of his wounded hands than the pain of losing one of his friends after all!

Several minutes passed before Elladan spoke, "Tunnel, Legolas."

"All right. Keep going."

They progressed with no significant problems, save for the low hanging bit of tunnel Legolas had forgotten about. They all received smashing headaches, and Legolas, who was taller than either of the twins, nearly cracked his nose. His muffled grunt of surprise mingled with the muffled first syllable of a curse that was quickly becoming very well known amongst the three friends.

"Legolas, don't let your father catch you saying that." Elrohir snickered. "Tunnel."

Each twin felt the hand on their shoulder shudder as the prince started to laugh. "Actually… he did."

"You're kidding!"

"No I'm serious! And…" Legolas paused, unsure if he should reveal the next secret or not, but found it too funny to pass up. "I got so flustered when I turned around and saw him there, I swallowed some _narvosalv."_

"Not the dwarf brew?" Elladan laughed. "Tunnel."

"Turn right into it." They swung round, keeping their line straight. "And yes, the dwarf brew. I thought it was water…"

The twins snickered again as they headed into this new tunnel. "Oh, I _wish _we had been there to see your face!"

Legolas remained silent, sending a mental prayer of thanks to the Valar that the twins _weren't _there to see it. They would probably be mimicking his expression and reaction right then and there. And he had no desire to have high-pitched identical squeaks echoing off the walls.

Speaking of which… As much as he hated the idea of picking at the twin's happiness, he shushed them. "We must keep quiet. There are creatures down here that have very keen ears, and a very keen craving for elf-flesh."

"Elf-flesh?"

Twin hands tightened on the white knives, twin faces set into a determined look, and twin sets of feet moved much more quietly.

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"Tunnel."

Silence.

"Tunnel."

"Turn."

Silence.

The continued hush of the tunnels began to wear on the three friends as they made their way back into more familiar tunnels. Elrohir had begun to sink into a dream-like state, lost in the feel of something oppressive moving towards them. Elladan grew tenser by the second, no matter that they were getting closer to the surface. And the prince of Mirkwood tried to concentrate on anything other than the merciless throb of his hands. And his thoughts wandered back to what he believed was stalking the tunnels right now.

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The _radag-gor _picked up its pace, urging its minions to speed along ahead of it. It sensed that its prey was close to leaving the deep tunnels, close to escaping into the shallow passageways of the palace where it dared not go.

The ancient creature's scales scraped along the rock walls, producing sparks and a grating, screeching noise. The _radag-gor _tried to hunch in upon itself, well aware that the clatter would reach the ears of any wary elf long before the creature neared the victim.

But it was no use. The creature had allowed itself to gorge over the years. It was not as small as it once was, and its steady snacking on orcs and goblins had caused its girth to expand to a point where it barely fit through the tunnels.

Gritting its many rows of sharp teeth, it sped on with all the speed it could muster, determined that even if its quarry should hear it coming, it would overtake the elves in seconds and tear them apart.

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The keen ears of Legolas Greenleaf heard the noise long before the creature itself appeared. Elrohir gasped as the shadow that had been plaguing him boiled and grew darker. "It's almost here!" he hissed.

Elladan and Legolas looked toward each other in alarm, though neither could see each other's faces. How did Elrohir know this? Was the creature pursuing them the cause of Elrohir's earlier collapse?

They did not allow themselves the luxury of time to ponder the meaning of this new development. They scrambled forward, wishing to put as much distance between themselves and their pursuer as possible. "We must turn left, left, and right in order to reach the upper levels and come back into the catacombs." Legolas hissed.

The dreadful scraping was almost overwhelming now, grating on the elves' sensitive ears and rubbing their nerves raw. And then, over the scraping, they caught a hint of a sound that chilled their blood, left them cold and shuddering.

The chilling screech of orcs and goblins. "Oh, Valar no!" Elrohir cried in despair. "Do we not have enough to handle?"

The floor became rough and uneven, and the trio began to stumble, fighting to keep their balance. Elladan felt the slight weight on his shoulder become a rough grasp as he slipped, helping his to regain his footing. He grimaced outwardly, furious with himself for losing his balance and causing Legolas to use his injured hand to keep him afoot. The wood-elf certainly did not need him blundering along, needing help every step of the way.

Elrohir was next to slip, and he too felt the weight be replaced by a clutching hand as they skittered along. The younger twin though, was grateful for the help, as he had been unconscious and had no knowledge of the serious injuries on his friend's hands. If he did, he certainly would not have allowed himself to stumble again so soon afterwards, causing Legolas to once more clutch at Elrohir's shoulder.

Into the dark, Legolas allowed his face to contort with pain. His hands were afire; it seemed that the skin was being peeled back from the wounds and rubbed in salt, that dwarven hammers pounded on the bruises, that a dozen splinters had worked their way onto the flesh of his hands and remained stuck there.

He wished desperately that the tunnels would suddenly become light with the coming of someone to rescue them. He would have been pleased to see a party of dwarves by this time. Not only would he have welcomed the stunted creatures with open arms, he would have learnt their rocky language and become a smith, if only they would help him and his friends escape from what was certain to be their doom.

Several staggering footsteps later, Legolas revised his thoughts, berating himself for even _thinking _of such a thing. Elven warriors would be preferable. Even the six puppies would be preferable to a smelly band of dwarves! His mind in such emotional turmoil, he both forgot about the pain in his hands, and turned his ankle by stepping into a depression in the floor. He crashed heavily to the ground, air rushing from his chest in a whoosh.

The pain instantly flared, and he was so overwhelmed he barely noticed the hands hauling him to his feet. By this time, the orcs were so near the elves knew they would have absolutely no chance of outrunning the nasty little creatures. Legolas mentally cursed their situation and hustled them all into a small side tunnel that turned a sharp bend and ended abruptly. They huddled there, Legolas pressing the twins against the wall, offering a small bit of a safe feeling.

The screech of the little bowlegged beasts grew ever louder, occasionally peaking as they fought amongst themselves. Not even the mind powers of the _radag-gor _could completely sublimate the evil creature's battle lust. The lust burned within them like fire, and the anticipation of battle and the feel of their weapons slipping into elf-flesh was simply too great for the _radag-gor _to completely erase.

To the elves, crowded in a dead-end side passage, the sounds were terrifying. It sounded like the entire tunnel complex was about to come down around their pointed ears. The twins were feeling decidedly squished, but the thought of complaining never entered their minds. Indeed, they tried to make themselves as small as possible to allow more room for the slightly larger wood-elf. Legolas was grateful for that, for the passage was so small, he could not get very far around the corner, and much of him was exposed to the view of anyone who happened to wander by. And, from the sound of it, about a hundred orcs were about to 'wander by', most likely carrying sharp and pointy objects.

"Not good not good!" Elladan hissed. He could feel Legolas's hand pressing against his chest, keeping him from leaping forward and placing himself on the outside of the stubborn prince. He had one of the weapons after all! What was Legolas going to do, _bite _the smelly orcs? Aside from that though, he could feel the blood flowing from Legolas's hand; it soaked through the thin fabric of his tunic to rub uncomfortably against this skin.

Struck by an idea, he sank to the floor, pulling his brother along with him. Legolas easily discerned what they wanted him to do, and he wasted no time bracing his back on one side of the tunnel, his legs on the other, and raising himself until he was about three feet off the ground. He eased himself further back into the tunnel, until he was directly above the twins, taking care not to knock either of them in the head. So perfectly was he balanced, that he no longer needed the use of his hands, so he gently laid them on his lap, mentally sighing with relief.

All this took less than fifteen seconds, and yet by the time they situated themselves, the orcs were upon them.

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**AN: **Hee hee. Hey, with only two chappies to go, did you really think I wouldn't leave you all with a cliffhanger? I'm going to exercise my power over all of you until the very end! (insert evil laugh here)

Review review review everybody! Don't give up on me now! Make a poor high school kid very happy by clicking that lovely box that says 'Submit review'. Thanx ya'll!


	14. Attack of the utterly evil cliffies

**Disclaimer: **Oh honestly, after 13 (now fourteen) chapters, must I really say that the characters don't belong to me? Except for Nethidal… Oh, and the evil _radag-gor_… but not the ones who matter most. (cough –Legolas- the twins - Thranduil - Elrond - cough) :)

**AN: **Well, I'm sure you all know by heart my reasons for this chappy being so inexcusably late. Take your pick: school. Being grounded. Computer problems. Or writer's block. The reason this time happens to be the last two. I'm really sorry, but it couldn't have been avoided… I don't think… lol!

Ok… I figure one more long chappy in which everything hits the ceiling and an epilogue. The good news… I now have a laptop that's my very own so I don't have to worry about my mother's always being on the fricken computer. It's brand-new too, so no more computer problems. SO all you guys have to fear is my deadly writer's block… If any of you try and roast me over the fire for my being so late, I will drop my writer's block on you from a very high place… Even though I totally deserve it… enjoy!

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So great was the noise of the approaching creatures that Legolas and the twins were forced to cover their sensitive ears to keep from going deaf. Elladan shifted about, wondering whether or not it was worth it to lower his hands from his ears so he could better grip his knife. He decided against losing his hearing, and clapped his hands to his ears all the tighter.

They waited there for what seemed like hours, the twins huddled together on the floor and Legolas braced against the walls above them. In reality, they waited no more than several seconds before the first orc passed the side passage. They tensed, expecting at any moment to feel a rush of air as the creature doubled back and entered their hiding place, expecting cold steel to pierce their skin.

They felt the rush of air all right, although it was more like a continuous _whoosh_. But no orcan weapons slipped into their flesh, no orcan cries of triumph reached their ears. The lead orc continued its headlong pursuit into the dark tunnels. The dumb beast apparently had no idea that its quarry was no longer in front of it.

Elladan heard Legolas shift uneasily as if wondering whether or not this was just a ploy of the orcs. Several moments passed, orcs now pouring past the tiny passage opening. There were so many of them! Nearly half a minute passed as they huddled in their little refuge, and the steady stream of smelly creatures showed no signs of slowing.

Legolas shifted again, wincing as a particularly sharp rock dug inconveniently into his back. He did not understand. Orcs were nasty little hole-dwellers by nature, and therefore their eyes were much more adapted to the dark than the elves. But even the ugly creatures could not see in the deep black that he and his friends were currently trapped in. Not a single orc carried a torch; none of them had any light source whatsoever! They were traveling at a high rate of speed for being blind.

When the prince thought more thoroughly on this matter, he came to the conclusion that it didn't matter how the orcs were able to tell where they were going. They were obviously missing the side passage, and if one of them had a light, surely they would have stopped to search the elves' hiding place. So why was he worrying? If it came to blows, (Valar, he _prayed _that it would not come to blows) the orcs would be at as much disadvantage as they were. So as long as they kept hidden… why worry about the lack of blasted light?

At the same time, both Elladan and Elrohir were praying for a spark of light, any light. It didn't occur to them that perhaps being in the dark was a good thing. Elrohir had not had the benefit of seeing the torchlight when Legolas arrived, and he was beginning to tremble again. He thought that, if he could maybe see some stray lamplight, he would be able to bear the terrible pressure increasing upon his mind.

And Elladan was just concerned about his little brother. They were so cramped that he could feel every single shudder that shook Elrohir's body. He silently maneuvered one arm around his brother's narrow shoulders. Trusting in Legolas to warn them if one of the orcs found their hiding place, he allowed his head to rest against the rough stone.

Had it really only been yesterday that they had been out on the archery fields, laughing as Legolas came racing as fast as he could toward them, only to be brought down onto the thick grass by wriggling little puppies?

It didn't seem possible.

Yes, in the past twenty-four hours, things had been viciously and horribly changed. Elladan tried to slow his train of thought before he remembered their exact situation. He wasn't quite fast enough. They were trapped underground in the deep tunnels beneath Mirkwood in a tiny little side passage with what sounded like thousands of orcs passing barely four feet away. There was also the matter of whatever that atrocious screeching sound was.

He stiffened. Yes, there it was again. Before it had been hidden by the clamor of the orcs, but now it was painfully obvious. That meant only one thing. Whatever it was… was getting closer.

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Legolas instinctively glanced down as he felt the slight tug on his leg, and mentally kicked himself. Of _course _he wouldn't see whoever it was. It was pitch black for goodness sakes! What if he had lost his balance and fell on top of them? The orcs would have heard it for sure and they would have come in and skewered them and… He mentally kicked himself again. This would not do. Being paranoid would not solve his problems. Being paranoid was reserved for people who did not want to end up in trouble.

That ship had sailed long ago. They were _definitely _in trouble now, and being paranoid wouldn't help them one bit.

So. Instead of mentally kicking himself one last time for good measure, he focused his attention on the problem at hand. What had the twin wanted? He listened to the clamor of orcs, alert for any grunt of surprise from an orc who had discovered their hiding place. The racket made it very difficult to concentrate. He was already on edge, and his mind simply did not want to focus on anything but their perilous situation. That awful screeching sound did not help any either. One moment!

Legolas smiled into the dark, sure that he had pinpointed whatever it was that the twin had wanted him to. The smile rapidly disappeared as he realized just what the screeching meant.

Despite his fright when he had inadvertently stumbled into these tunnels when he was young, they had sparked his natural curiosity. After he was rescued, he spent several days in Mirkwood's library researching anything he could find about the tunnels beneath the catacombs. And what he found had chilled him to the bone.

He had learned of the deadly creature that lurked beneath Mirkwood's palace and how it came to reside there. He learned about its strange powers and its high intolerance of the light. And the more that he read, the more confused he got. If all it took to harm the creature was the light from a torch, or even a candle, why had the warriors of Mirkwood not marched to get rid of the foul thing? Why had they let it live down in the tunnels where it was a constant threat? Admittedly, it was relatively safe, since the _radag-gor _could not advance past the catacombs where the torches were perpetually lit. However, having a creature of that nature living beneath a palace was trouble waiting to happen.

Actually, Legolas reminded himself ruefully, that was what they said about _him_ and no one had tried to drive him out yet.

The screeches drew closer. Mirkwood's prince shuddered as the sound grated against his ears. Without doubt, he knew that the noise was being made by the _radag-gor_, but nothing in his research had mentioned the beast's capability for producing such a racket. In fact, every thing he had read pointed to the _radag-gor_ being a creature of silence, stealth, and even grace.

So what had happened?

Elladan gave a muffled gasp as his brother suddenly broke free from his embrace and scrambled forward, apparently intent on rushing out into the mass of orcs.

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The king of Mirkwood scuttled along the deep corridors of the catacombs, sword held tightly in one hand, a torch grasped in the other. The shrieks and cries of orcs had reached elven ears long ago, which had only served to intensify Thranduil and Elrond's need to find their children. But they were certainly not foolish enough to go a-hunting all by themselves. Oh no.

That's why they had brought nearly half of Mirkwood's army.

Elrond was directly behind Thranduil, face set in a grim, determined line. And behind him came the warriors. Each was wearing a light, supple coat of armor over their forest green tunics, and yet, despite the metal, they managed to move in perfect silence. Each had a short sword or long knife drawn, the ideal weapons for fighting in an enclosed space.

As the orcs drew closer, the elves began to spread out. They halted in a large chamber, the deepest part of the catacombs. They quickly lighted the long-disused torches on the walls and assembled in near perfect formation. They had chosen this area for one main reason: the cavern was large enough to hold nearly all of their warriors. The orcs, on the other hand, would be forced through a bottleneck of sorts. The passage from the catacombs into the deeper, unlit tunnels was only broad enough for perhaps eight orcs to pass at a time.

The creatures would be cut down before they had a chance to cry out.

During the tense wait for the first of the orcs to show their ugly faces, Thranduil sent out whispered commands to the elves. They were to handle this battle as quickly and as quietly as they could, and then they were to get into the tunnels and flush out any of the creatures that had sought to flee.

Of course, both the king and Elrond were extraordinarily firm that no one was to go anywhere without a torch.

The shouts and screams of the orcs and goblins grew closer, and the warriors tightened their grips on their knives and short swords. Not only were their homes threatened if the creatures managed to break free from the tunnels, but Elladan, Elrohir, and Legolas were in trouble as well. Both of those unnerving thoughts served only to fuel their determination.

As the first orcs piled through the tunnel opening, they were killed instantly. Even as their bodies fell to the floor, more came to take their places.

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It took sometime before the rest of the orc and goblin masses realized that the screams from the front of the line were cries of pain, anger, and surprise. So caught up in the battle lust, it took even longer for the realization of the elven attack to make its way through their ugly thick skulls. If their minds had not been controlled by the deadly _radag-gor_, the entire troop may have been killed.

Pity. Even with the _radag-gor_'s instructions to fall back, regroup, and attack, the whole ordeal only served to let the orcs live a little longer.

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The elves remained calm, managing to make the battle look easy. In fact, as time wore on, things began to get difficult. The orcs eventually realized they were being attacked, and fell back to better prepare before entering the large cavern. They drew their crude scimitars and jagged-edged knives. And being the vicious, cold, un-caring creatures they were, they rectified their lack of shields in an ugly way. The nearest orcs were grabbed and thrust into the cavern before them.

They progressed rather well this way, letting their comrade's bodies take the brunt of the deadly elven hits. They almost made their way past the center of the cavern. The elves quickly discerned what was happening and struck hard. But the damage had been done. The warriors could no longer keep their full attention on the tunnel. Their attention was divided.

What had before been an easily controlled assassination of sorts now became more like a scene from a tavern where the occupants had had too many drinks. Well, the elves managed to retain some form of gracefulness, but the overall effect was that of a bar-room brawl.

Taking advantage of the sudden confusion, the orcs and goblins surged forwards. The cavern had been crowded before, now it became so that it was near impossible to get a decent blow in. The torchlight waved and flickered, the flames blown back and forth by all the activity. Back and forth, seemingly imitating the struggle that was taking place. The orcs, already at an advantage because of their numbers, had little trouble dealing with the poor light they were being given.

Of course, elven eyes were nothing to laugh at either, but the flickering light cast by the torches confused more than one warrior. It was difficult indeed to fight when one had to constantly double check to make sure one was not stabbing a comrade. And it was absolutely infuriating to have their keen eyesight play second fiddle to the awful orcs' and goblins'.

Elrond stood back-to-back with Thranduil, expertly picking off any orcs who ventured too near. The elven lord hadn't expected this many of the foul beings, and he was rather surprised at the sheer numbers. Surprised and furious. And afraid. His sons were down in those tunnels, and the orcs were standing between them. That meant only one thing.

The orcs had to die.

Thranduil, meanwhile, was engaged in a vicious fight with a goblin that absolutely refused to die. Thoughts whirled through his mind, even as he parried away a blade that surely would have decapitated him. He had allowed his son to come down here, even knowing what lurked in the deep shadows. As was typical of Mirkwood's royalty line, he completely overlooked the fact that he had tried to stop his son from going. He forgot that Legolas had ignored his orders and had left before things could be settled.

Indeed, instead of focusing on those two things, the king allowed himself to sink into a deep frustration with himself. To Thranduil, not only was it his fault for letting his son search the tunnels, it was his fault for not realizing that Elladan and Elrohir were missing in the first place. He was king and they were his guests after all! He should have kept some sort of tabs on them! Wasn't it part of his responsibility to know where his guests were?

And those were the thoughts of King Thranduil. Twas easy to see where Legolas had gotten his easily-guilt-ridden personality.

Much to Thranduil's surprise, when he came partially out of his guilty funk, he saw that the flow of orcs had begun to peter out. Calling for reinforcements, he snatched a torch from its bracket and he, Elrond, and the rest of the army swung into the passage.

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The elves had to climb over the filthy bodies of many orcs and goblins before they were back on relatively level ground and could easily pursue the fleeing creatures. They paused for breath and to regain their sense of direction. And then, in the silence between their gasping breaths, they heard it. And all knew what it meant.

The screeching set their nerves on edge and the echoes bounced off the walls and through the tunnels, making it difficult to pinpoint the direction it was coming from. They instinctively drew closer together, a small group of them together with a single torch.

The elven cry came mere seconds later.

This wasn't the cry of a fully grown elf who had found a cluster of orcs either. This was a cry of pure terror, a cry torn from the throat of an elf who had not yet reached full maturity. Thranduil and Elrond did not even pause for confirmation; for they were tearing down a tunnel seconds later and the four warriors who accompanied them had to race to keep up.

It was a deadly adrenaline-pumping rush to reach the young elves, one that Thranduil would always remember. The untainted fear for whomever had called out. The fear that they would not reach the elflings in time. The fear that they would arrive just in time to see their children being devoured. The fear…

The torch threw light uncertainly as the wind from their mad rush buffeted it. The elves were so desperate to reach the origin of the cry that they barely noticed, and certainly did not remember that they would need the light to defeat the creature that they were certain they would meet.

They ran, and during their rush, they prayed to the Valar that they would not be too late.

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**AN: **Hello again it's me. I'm excited to report that I got a great response this time, and wow, look how I repaid you… a months-late update… (cringes) _Muchos gracias _to **CAH, Ceriadara, Alenor Peredhel, Haldir's Heart and Soul, Aranna Undomiel, Aurehen, GundamWingFanatic90, Chrys1786, **and **Galadriel Kenobi.**

You guys all rock, and I'm super sorry (again, still, whatever you want to call it) for the long period of inactivity. Hope you enjoyed, and plz review! (I know you will, if nothing else than to yell at me for taking so long… feel free though, I deserve it!)


	15. It's all better now or is it?

**Disclaimer: **(yawns , rolls eyes, and twirls finger in the air) This whole 'I don't own them' thing is getting old…. It gets me down…

**AN: **Wowza… HERE IT IS! The last chappy… besides the epilogue… Absolutely amazing! I can't believe I've gotten this far! Whoo hoo! Since there's not much else to say, I'll let you get on to reading the chappy… before you all hurt me for taking so long… (cowers)

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Elrohir struggled like mad against his twin's iron grip. Why couldn't Elladan see that he _had to go! _The voice was calling to him insistently and each syllable that it uttered only pushed Elrohir to greater lengths to escape from his brother. Why couldn't Elladan hear it? Why couldn't Legolas? It was perfectly clear to the young elf that he had to go to see the owner of the voice. There were just no other options. Distantly, he was aware of an annoying screech, and that he should be terrified, but somehow… he just didn't care. All that mattered was the beautiful voice.

Elladan had managed to grab his brother by the waist before Elrohir had reached the main passage. Thoughts spun through his head, even as Elrohir kicked him viciously in the shin. What in the name of the Valar had come over his little brother? Applying all of his strength, he pulled, dragging a kicking squirming Elrohir along with him. He knew that if he let his brother go, all of them would be killed, probably horribly and painfully.

However, he reflected miserably as Elrohir twisted and sunk his teeth into Elladan's hand, it couldn't possibly be more painful than that! He let go reflexively with that hand and was instantly pulled forward as Elrohir made another bid for freedom.

Above the struggling twins, Legolas listened helplessly. He kept an ear trained on the tunnel as well, wanting to be ready if one of the orcs heard the scuffle.

This was not turning out to be a good day.

The flow of orcs continued by, but Legolas did not think there were quite as many as there were before. In fact, he decided after listening hard for several seconds, there definitely wasn't as many. If Elladan could keep a hold of his brother for another few minutes, he judged that all of the orcs would be long gone. And that's when he felt Elrohir's back brush against his legs as the twin leaped for the opening.

He didn't think, he just reacted. He bent his legs, and as the pressure between his feet and back disappeared, he dropped from his perch.

He landed atop the twins with a muted thump. His weight, light as he was, was more than enough to drive both twins to the ground. The prince twisted about and tried to pin the younger twin to the ground, only to be kicked by a now-furious Elrohir. The breath went out of him in a rush, and he frantically gasped to fill his lungs. He mentally swore that, when all of this was over, that Elrohir would find several dozen frogs in his bed.

The already-crowded passageway grew to be far too restrictive for a good and proper tussle. In the first several seconds, Legolas and Elladan were at a high advantage, but that advantage quickly wore away as Elrohir began to use the close quarters to his benefit. More often than not, the elder twin and the prince found themselves squished against the walls while Elrohir struggled frantically to the opening.

The clamor from the orcs provided enough cover for Legolas to hiss, "When you argued about who would win a fight between the two of you, I did not think that I would be in the middle of it! Ouch!" Elrohir had once again employed his teeth.

Each of the two was grasping what they thought was a leg; the darkness didn't help matters at all.

"Elladan!" Elrohir whispered, suddenly intensifying his struggles. "Don't you hear it? Why won't you let me go?"

If there had been any light at all, Legolas and Elladan would have shared a glance of confusion. "What?"

"The voice! Why can't you hear it? It's getting closer! Please let me go, I have to go to it! Please!"

Elrohir's voice was harsh, ragged with emotion. It tore at Legolas and Elladan's hearts, but there was absolutely no chance that they would let Elrohir go to his doom.

Legolas realized that the sounds of the orcs had faded into the distance, and that no more wind from bodies passing the little tunnel brushed against their faces. The orc onslaught had ceased. And now all they had to worry about was the creature of the darkness. For some reason, the thought wasn't very comforting.

And neither were the thoughts that followed. The creature of the darkness… the _radag-gor… _He remembered all the things that he had read about the beast, and with a chill he remembered one of the creature's greatest talents: mind control.

"Oh, dear."

Elladan snapped his head around to look in what he thought was Legolas's direction. "What? I don't like the sound of that."

"The creature is trying to control Elrohir's mind. It's trying to lure him closer so that it can… well, devour him."

Elladan was suitably horrified.

After several moments of complete silence between the trio, punctuated only by the sudden, odd screams of orcs and the awful racket of the beast, Elrohir lunged one more time. And succeeded.

The younger twin fell to his knees as his captors accidentally let go of his legs, but he was back up in an instant, and fleeing down the tunnels… directly toward the _radag-gor_.

The same curse rose to both Legolas and Elladan's lips as they charged to their feet and raced after their fleeing companion. If the situation had not been so dire, they would have found time to laugh about their selected word, but as it was, the thought didn't even rise to their minds.

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Elrohir let a surge of relief take him over as he felt the hands restraining him slip away. So deep was he caught in the spell of the _radag-gor_'s control, that he did not even remember who had been holding him back. All he knew was that he was free, and that he would be able to get to the voice.

The only obstacle in the younger twin's way was the darkness. Elrohir was guided by the voice in his mind, but even the voice couldn't warn him about low ceilings or uneven footing. After stumbling more times than he could count, and cracking his skull twice, Elrohir was forced to slow his headlong rush. But he didn't dare let himself walk, afraid of having his captors catch up to him and taking him away.

He could hear them in the tunnel behind him, calling in fierce whispers. He scoffed at that in open disdain. They were scared of the voice. Why on Arda would they be scared of the voice? It didn't sound at all frightening to him, rather, it sounded melodic, much like what he had heard the previous day, at the archery fields… It called to him, wanted him to come to it. He would do what it asked. How could he refuse? Why _should_ he refuse?

He quickened his step once more as he heard the whispers come closer. Being captured again did not fit in with his agenda.

Perhaps, if he had had the foresight to place his hands out in front of himself, he would not have run headlong into a low overhang. The blackness of the tunnels bled away, leaving the twin with a white flash and stinging pain before he hit the ground in unconsciousness.

He was not out for very long. Hands snatched him and pulled him roughly to his feet. He staggered, dizzily wondering what on Arda was happening. His head was filled with cobwebs. Appropriate really, considering he was somewhere in Mirkwood. Elrohir shook his head, vaguely wondering if perhaps an army of tiny spiders had crawled into his ear and spun webs everywhere.

"Elrohir?"

Elladan's soft whisper penetrated through the fog that surrounded his mind. He instantly began to feel better. Whatever he had gotten himself into, Elladan would help him to get out of it.

"Elladan… I—" Elrohir gasped in surprise as a horrible screeching assaulted his ears. It sounded very close. "What in the name of Mandos is that?"

"Never mind that… RUN!" Legolas's voice came out of the darkness, nearly frightening Elrohir to death. The prince's voice contained such a commanding tone that Elrohir was moving before he even registered what Legolas had said.

"Legolas? What are you doing here?"

"Trying to keep you out of trouble," came the short reply. "It is not easy, you understand?"

Elrohir chose to let it go. It was not worth getting into a word tussle with the prince, who would certainly win. And besides, the screech was very close now, only a few yards away. He decided to focus on running.

Legolas dropped back behind the twins as they ran, blindly trying to put some distance between them and the _radag-gor_. He was not sure why, especially as he didn't even have one of his knives to use if the creature got too close. There was a dagger in his boot, but with his hands in their awful condition, he doubted that he would be able to fumble the dagger out of the sheath, let alone throw it with any sort of accuracy. He hurried them along, glancing back every couple of step as if he could see the monster coming at them. There was only the black of the tunnels, and every time he turned, it cost him precious seconds.

And then the creature was upon him, snatching him up in its mouth like a dog would a bone. Legolas cried out in surprise and terror. It echoed throughout the tunnels, and he heard the twin's footsteps falter and halt.

"No! Keep going, don't stop! Go!"

The beast shook its head and Legolas felt the odd sensation of flying back and forth. He decided then that he did not much care for being the bone.

For all its viciousness, the creature had yet to bite down hard. Legolas knew that if he found a way to survive this, he would have dozens of bruises. He struggled, and cried out the first thing that came to mind. "You half-wit! Do you have any idea what I've been through today? I've been poisoned by an evil stream, forced to hide from thousands of orcs, and have tramped through who knows how much mud and filth! Put me down! I'm probably poisonous!"

As soon as the words left his mouth, he realized how foolish he sounded. But he seemed to have confused the creature, so he kept talking, all the while reaching for his dagger. "All in all, this has been a horrible week! First, I get attacked by a party of orcs, who almost beheaded me, and then I got grounded, and I had to deal with my evil weapons master, I got pranked by the twins, trapped in the tunnels, attacked by spiders, trapped in the tunnels _again_, and now this! Honestly, I think that I've been cursed!"

He could practically _feel _the confusion of the _radag-gor, _which had probably expected its prey to grovel and beg for mercy. It certainly hadn't been expecting the rantings of a furious and desperate elf-prince. And he could certainly hear the twin's terrified snickers as they disappeared down a side tunnel.

The creature had had enough of the elf trapped in its huge jaw. It decided that the time had long come for a taste of elf flesh.

Legolas gasped in pain as he felt the jaws of the _radag-gor _begin to close. He desperately strained to grasp the hilt of the dagger; he could feel it, but he couldn't get his painful, treacherous hands to close around it! In a sudden burst of determination, he forced his swollen hands to grasp the hilt and pull. The wounds began to burn painfully, but Legolas paid them no mind. All that he wanted now was to escape from the creature's mouth.

He brought his knife around in a sharp arc, and the _radag-gor _howled in pain as the metal sliced through its tender flesh, dangerously close to its eyes. It shook its great head and yowled, but it did not let go of the elf.

Now furious, it tossed Legolas into the air for a split second and caught him again, securing its great teeth in the prince's battered skin. Legolas yelped in agony and nearly passed out as the _radag-gor_'s noxious breath rolled over his face. It smelled of rotten meat, and Legolas knew that soon, it would smell of fresh blood. The beast opened its great maw slightly and prepared to crunch down, ending the elf's life.

And then Thranduil appeared, charging around the corner, bloody sword raised high. Close behind him came a small group of elves, each carrying a torch.

Legolas had never seen such a welcome sight in his life.

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Thranduil had hurried the group along as fast as he could. They were close, closer than they had thought. They had come upon the twins unexpectedly in a side tunnel and had wasted several precious seconds lighting several more torches. And then, as the _radag-gor_'s unexpected cry of pain battered their ears, they had charged onwards.

And Thranduil had come upon a scene straight out of his nightmares. In a single second, he had taken it in, his son trapped in the beast's teeth, a look of pain and fear stamped across his fine features. In that second, Thranduil had experienced a rush of fear and fury, and he had charged forward, intent on ending the life of the creature that threatened his son.

As the elves bearing the torches had rounded the bend, the beast howled in pain as the dreaded light struck its skin. Smoke began to rise almost instantly. Completely forgetting the elf in its jaws, the _radag-gor _opened its mouth and howled. Legolas dropped to the floor and lay there, stunned. Thranduil stepped between his son and the beast, a calm look upon his face.

The beast knew then, its time on Middle-Earth was coming to an end. It tried to backpedal, to get away from the elven-king and the light that was scorching it. But its huge bulk prevented it from moving. It was, in effect, stuck. By this time, the smoke was nearly too dense to see through.

The last thing the _radag-gor _ever saw was the elven-king, stepping through the smoke veil, and his sword leveled at the creature's heart.

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Thranduil wiped his sword on the shoulder of the dead beast and sheathed it, then hurrying to his son. Legolas was sitting up, supported by several of the warriors.

"_Ion-nin, _are you all right?"

Legolas, tunic ripped in a dozen places, cobwebs in his hair, and covered in _radag-gor _saliva looked up at his father and said plaintively, "I've had a very bad week, Ada."

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Nethidal was delighted. The elf's face had lit up as the battered twins and prince staggered into his room to be treated. The twin's faces were pale, and they were covered in several layer of grime. Their tunics each sported a bloody handprint. And Legolas… well, Legolas dropped down onto Nethidal's bed and didn't move. He remained there as the healers bustled about, applying ointments and salves to all of their injuries.

He was so exhausted, he actually fell asleep, much to the envy of Elladan and Elrohir, who were forced to go over their entire adventure by Elrond and Thranduil. By the end, as they finished telling what had transpired before they had fled, the two father's felt like doing nothing more than snatching their children up for a good long hug.

Legolas, when woken by his ada for the hug, remarked in a very sleepy tone, "Ada, you shouldn't touch me. I'm poisonous."

Thranduil had laughed and taken his son off to bed. As he helped Legolas into a clean nightshirt, he said, "Legolas, you frightened me today."

His son had looked up with big blue eyes that Thranduil had feared he would never see again. "I'm sorry Ada. I didn't mean to make you worry."

The king laughed and gathered his son up in another hug. "Little one, you _always _make me worry. You are so impulsive, I fear that one day you shall walk into a situation you will not come out of. But at the same time, I know that you are becoming a most capable, mature young prince. I am very proud of you, _ion-nin_. I hope you know that. Now. To sleep. We will talk tomorrow."

Thranduil blew out the candle and retreated out the door. With a slight smile on his face, he leaned back in the door and said, "And Legolas… you really shouldn't swear like that. I do not want the twins to pick up on it."

As the king walked away, Legolas turned onto his side and smiled into the dark. "Too late…"

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**AN: **YAY! I got it up when I said I would! Kinda…ff . net decided not to let me upload any documents last night… But here it is! Woot! Well… how very sadd. It's over! Just the epilogue left! I will try to have it up by Monday.

Amazing!

Thanx are in order to the following people who reviewed: **Alenor Peredhel, Ceriadera, sehellys, Haldir's Heart and Soul, theo darkstar, rivendellelve, GundamWingFanatic90, Aranna Undomiel, Tathren Lalaith, **and of course, **Aurehen! **

I suppose you all know it, but I'll say it any ways… ya'll ROCK!

Stick around for the epilogue!


	16. Epilogue cries

**Disclaimer: **For the zillionth time… I would like to say that if you attempt to take the rights to LotR, which clearly belong to Tolkien, his descendants will come after you with long pointy sticks. LotR ain't mine… (crawls off into a corner to cry)

**AN: **The long-awaited conclusion! Please don't hurt me for taking so long! I have an allergy to rotten tomatoes, heavy objects and anything remotely pointy. But anyway, the epilogue is here, which is both amazingly awesome and sadd at the same time… You may go read the ending now… I don't want to detain you any longer than necessary… (please don't hurt me…)

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A week after the events that took place deep under the palace, the Imladris elves were preparing to go back to their valley home. Legolas was comfortably perched on the end of Elladan's bed watching the twins pack. All three had been confined to the room by Elrond and Thranduil until every last scrap of clothing and belongings had been squared away.

Legolas was absent-mindedly playing with one of his braids, wrapping the golden strands around his fingers. His hands were still wrapped in bandages, as several of the deep cuts had yet to close.

Nethidal was there as well, still wrapped in bandages and with his arm in a sling. He was watching his friend warily, expecting the golden-haired elf to leap across the room and strangle him at any second. Maybe he wasn't mad anymore, Nethidal thought to himself hopefully.

The twins scurried here and there, occasionally disappearing under the bed to collect a boot or a comb. Nethidal transferred his watchfulness to them for a second, and they paused and looked back with a wicked twinkle mirrored in their eyes. One of them, (Nethidal still had trouble identifying them at a second's glance, but he thought it was Elladan) shot a look toward the elf-prince. Nethidal shrugged slightly.

The twins resumed their bustling about, only this time, they stayed further away from the prince. As time slowly dragged on, Nethidal began to allow himself to relax, thinking that perhaps Legolas's temper had cooled.

"That was _not _fair!" Legolas cried suddenly, leaping to his feet and pointing accusingly to each of his friends in turn. Each had jumped upon hearing his cry, the first words he had spoken to any of them since the day before.

"What wasn't fair about it?" Elrohir dared to ask.

Legolas focused on this, and stalked over to the now-cowering Noldor. "It is fair if one wishes to team up to pull a prank. It is not fair if three devious minds team up against one! It is also not fair to enlist the help of an elf with access to dye! All preparations should be made by the one who intends to pull the prank! If you could not get the dye yourself, it is not fair for you to use it!"

Elrohir was staring cross-eyed at a long, elegant bandaged finger. The finger poked him viciously in the nose. He yelped and covered his face, which hid him from further pokings, and so Legolas wouldn't be able to see the grin that has plastered itself onto his face. After all, not many could say that they had been poked by a blue wood-elf.

Legolas scowled ferociously, and Elrohir realized that he had not been fast enough to hide his smile from the wood-elf.

"You think it is funny? You think slipping blue dye into my bathwater is funny?" Legolas's face would have turned red, except that the deep sky-blue of the dye counter acted it. He ended up a lovely shade of violet.

It was simply too much for the elves in the room. Each snickered, tried to hide it, and ended up laughing hysterically.

The violet of Legolas's face deepened. He had been contentedly bathing before dinner last night, only to fall asleep in the warm water. He woke up late and dried and dressed himself in such a hurry; he failed to notice his new skin color until he entered the dining hall. At the roar of laughter that went up, he had turned to his father quizzically, only to see his dignified father 'coughing' violently into a napkin. He had looked down at himself, seen nothing wrong (as he was wearing a long-sleeved tunic and his hands were bandaged) and turned to look in a mirror that hung on the wall behind him.

The horrified howl that had burst from his throat served only to further greaten everyone's mirth. He had sent a flurry of threats and minor curses toward the twins and Nethidal and exited in a hurry.

He had not appeared for breakfast, nor lunch the next day. Thranduil had ordered him to go and 'help' the twins pack, and Legolas has obeyed sullenly. He had not spoken a word until his outburst about what was fair, and what was not.

He stood before them now, arms crossed over his chest defiantly, glaring. Several seconds passed before Nethidal stopped his laughter long enough to ask if Legolas would hold the same view if he had pulled the same prank on Nethidal himself.

"Yes, but it didn't happen to you! It happened to me!" A pause, as Legolas realized just how selfish that sounded, and revised his opinion. "All right, it is funny…" He saw them begin to relax and he continued sharply, "But it's still not fair and don't you think you'll get away with no consequences!"

This silenced both Nethidal and the twins as they thought of the horrors that would soon be coming their way.

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Elrond walked the corridors of Mirkwood, hoping against hope that his sons hadn't gotten into trouble in the past three hours. He was just coming around a corner when he nearly collided with Legolas, going the opposite way. The elven lord straightened his robes and eyed the very-blue princeling with well-concealed amusement. "I trust that my sons have finished their packing?"

"Yes," Legolas replied distantly. Elrond saw the wily look in the prince's eye, but his sudden feeling of dismay was briefly over-whelmed by the realization that the blue skin matched Legolas's eyes perfectly. "They are ready to go whenever you wish to depart."

Elrond, distractedly wondering how on Arda the Mirkwood elves had managed to create such a brilliant color of dye, replied, "I should think we will leave in an hour. We would like to clear the forest before nightfall."

"Perfect," Legolas said to himself. Aloud, he said, "You will have to hurry then, 'tis an awfully long way. If you would excuse me, I have something to look into."

Elrond watched the retreating back of the prince and wondered if he could convince Thranduil to make him a robe with a color like that.

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Nearly an hour later, the two royal families met at the gates for the last time. The Noldor family was waiting for their horses to be brought from the stables. Elladan and Elrohir were very jumpy, much to the amusement of Legolas. He was casually chatting with them, making plans to visit them sometime in the next year.

Thranduil and Elrond watched out of the corners of their eyes as they discussed measurements for Elrond's new robe. Elrond was delighted at Thranduil's consent, he did love that color! It had been Elros's favorite color as well, and Elrond knew that his brother would have loved the idea of a piece of clothing in that color.

His only concern was that it would be Legolas who would bring the robe when he came to visit the next year. He knew that Legolas would take all precautions… but he was still Legolas, and Elrond knew the princeling well enough by now to know that things would undoubtedly go wrong. And then the young prince and his sons would have the run of Rivendell.

Elrond could barely repress the groan that rose in his throat at the thought of all the broken pieces of crockery and splatters of dye that would adorn his lovely home soon after the arrival of Legolas.

Thranduil caught the look of dismay that crossed his friend's face and smiled. The king couldn't really blame Elrond for being so apprehensive: he knew well the destructive force that was his son. Combine that with the twins' sneaky ways, and one would have the recipe for one quickly-destroyed home. Although they would be quick enough to offer to clean up, sooner or later, something irreplaceable would be broken. And that was when the elflings responsible would be sent to the stables for mucking out the stalls.

"Nethidal is furious that he couldn't come to see you off," Legolas remarked off-handedly. "The healers wouldn't let him out of his room again. They—"

"Have no idea that I've gone," said Nethidal, coming up behind them. He smiled, and in that moment, Elladan and Elrohir realized that the older wood-elf had probably taught Legolas quite a few things about mischief.

Legolas returned the smile and clasped Nethidal's forearm. "Very nice, _mellon-nin_. You will have to tell me how you get away from old Hawk-eye."

Nethidal laughed, green eyes sparkling. "One of these days Hauki is going to learn about your little nickname for him. I pity you when he does."

"I did not come up with that!" Legolas protested merrily. "Twas my Ada!"

A rather shocked silence followed this statement before all four burst into laughter. When Thranduil looked over to see what all the fuss was about, their mirth only intensified.

"Oh look," Elrohir said as he caught sight of a struggling elf. "There's our horses. And some poor soul has decided to bring Mordax along as well. Oh dear."

The black stallion's neighing cut through all conversations and head turned inquisitively. Quesya was desperately trying to control the big horse, grasping frantically at the reins as if his life depended on it. It didn't do the stable-worker much good. The stallion reared, and the poor elf was lifted straight off the ground.

"Oh no…" Legolas murmured. He headed off to help Quesya, but he was too late. One toss of Mordax's muscled neck sent the elf flying. He landed hard, but rolled to his feet almost instantly. Elves began to surround the stallion, hoping to calm the horse, but their close proximity only served to further agitate the stallion.

Legolas edged through the crowd and approached the stallion, murmuring unintelligibly. Mordax turned to face him, eyes rolling, and for an instant, it seemed as if the horse was about to charge the young prince. Everyone held their breath and waited, and Thranduil even took a couple of steps forward, ready to fly forward and knock his son out of harms way if necessary.

But the prince seemed completely unconcerned as he held his hand up toward Mordax's flaring nostrils. As he recognized Legolas's scent, he nickered and his ears pricked forward. He stepped forward and nuzzled Legolas's hand gently, then nipped at the bandages as if to say, "What's this, and where's my carrot?"

Everyone watched in amazement as the stallion willingly let Legolas leap onto his broad back. "How does he _do _that?" Elladan asked the air. He received only disbelieving stares from everyone else. Thranduil buried his face in his hands, shoulders heaving as he laughed helplessly.

"I am never going to get used to him and that dratted horse!"

Legolas grinned impishly down at his father. "You never should have let me raise him then!"

"Get out of here you!" Thranduil cried. "Escort the Peredhel's at least as far as the stream, if you would." He shook hands with each of the Noldor's as they mounted their horses.

Nethidal reached up with his unbandaged arm and shook hands with the twins. "I'll send something along with Legolas next year, along with a note on how to use it." He winked at them, already imagining the choking squeaky-voiced Legolas when he realized that someone had slipped _narvosalv _into his drink.

With final words of farewell, the Peredhel's nudged their horses into a trot, and Legolas followed close behind.

As the gates to the palace faded into the distance, Legolas discovered that Mordax held other horses in the same category of contempt and abhorrence as he did for other elves. He snapped at the flank of Elladan's horse, which shied and nearly decapitated Elladan as it stepped off the trail and under a tree. Legolas's shouting apologies followed, along with Elladan's choked assurances that no harm had been done.

They resumed their travels, this time with Legolas leading the way, and Mordax flicking his tail impudently in front of Elrond's mount's snout.

"So, I will see you next you next year then," Legolas said after several rather awkward minutes, as the first stream edged into view.

This time, Elrond couldn't quite contain the groan that issued from his lips. He saw Legolas turn, and on the blue face was stamped an expression of genuine hurt. "Oh, no, Legolas, I didn't mean… I was… not…"

Legolas held up a bandaged hand and scrutinized Elrond's face closely. "Ah. I see. It's all right."

Elrond settled back, vaguely unnerved at how well the wood-elves (Legolas and Thranduil in particular) seemed to be able to read him.

The prince tapped on Mordax's neck and the stallion stopped before crossing the bridge. As each of the other horses passed, Legolas shook hands with the rider (each of whom were very careful not to squeeze hard). As Elrohir made it to the other side, Legolas brought Mordax back onto the trail and turned to face the twins and their father.

"Well, so as to keep my Ada happy…" Legolas carefully stood on Mordax's back and performed a bow. "It has been a wonderful past two weeks, and I sincerely apologize for all the trouble you have been through. I eagerly await the next time we meet."

Elrohir eyed the prince as Legolas sat back down. "You are entirely too good at that."

"Yes well, I have had plenty of experience. But in my own words, it was really pretty fun wasn't it? Even with all that happened!" He gave the twins a cunning smile. "And next time I see you two, you had better be better at tree walking!"

"Why you--!"

Elrohir swung his horse around, intent on galloping back and giving Legolas a good whack on the arm. Unfortunately, his mare's left rear hoof tripped a wire… and buckets of green and brown dye spilled down upon the twin's heads.

At the same time, back in the palace, Nethidal was receiving the same treatment as he opened the door to his room.

Howls of dismay echoed through the forest, along with Legolas's bell-like laughter. "I'll see you next year!" he called, and swung Mordax back toward the palace.

This time, Elrond's groan increased ten-fold.

SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS

**AN: **And there it is. Wow! Omigosh! Gasp! (I'll refrain from going on… but only because I love ya!) I can't believe both of my long stories are over!

A huge thanks go out to all who reviewed last chapter: **theo darkstar, rivendellelve, Alenor Peredhel, Haldir's Heart and Soul, Tathren Lalaith, sehellys, womp lover, **and **Aurehen.**

I suppose the only thing left to do is start another long story! I've been pondering doing one with the entire Fellowship, but what I'd really like to do is write another Legolas story. I've promised to write a two parter that features Thranduil angst as well as some Legolas, but other than that, I'm wide open. Also, I'm co-authoring two stories with two people (see my profile for more details). I plan on going back and editing everything I've written so far, searching out any mistakes I may have made. (Actually, I KNOW I've made mistakes…)

Thank you so much for reading this fic all the way through! You have no idea how much it means to me! (It would make me feel even better if you dropped a review and told me if you liked the ending… lol!)

I'm gone for now… THANK YOU!

Cheers,

Rebell


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